


Herald and Commander, Part Four: Stronger When You Hold Him

by ButterflySunrider



Series: Herald and Commander: A Romance in Four Parts [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bromance, Cullenlingus, Epic, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Headcanon, Kidnapping, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Plot Exposition Has To Go Somewhere, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Starring Everybody Really, True Love, Unplanned Pregnancy, War, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-03-18 15:44:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 49,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3574925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflySunrider/pseuds/ButterflySunrider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though the Inquisition scored a victory at Adamant Fortress, it was not without sacrifice. Threats continue to surface, and not just from without. Will Cullen and Ellana weather the coming storm together, or will their love be yet another casualty of war?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vir Abelas

It had started off as the worst day ever. Varric had stayed behind at Skyhold, so Ellana had to wait the week it took to return there in order to tell him the bad news. “No ravens,” she’d said. He was her friend and he was Hawke’s friend. He deserved to be told face to face.

Someone had let slip, though. By the time Ellana arrived back at court, Varric was staring at the fire, his eyes red and puffy with Tramp whining at his feet.

 _It was probably Shapeley. Back to skull duty for him._

There was no sneaking up on Varric, no matter how light or tentative the footstep. Ellana saw him cringe from behind at her approach. “Did I ever tell you about the time Hawke was on a Merchant Guild hit list?” he began. “Hawke’s uncle got into an investment scheme with a couple of merchant caste businessmen. They took a lot of people’s coin to arrange the import of wandering hills from the Anderfels. A delicacy, I’m told.” He turned around and looked at her briefly before he started to pace the floor . “Their weird, foreign foodstuffs arrived... _alive_. And one of them, true to its name, wandered off in the middle of the night.”

Ellana placed her hand on Varric’s shoulder and he leaned into her. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on the top of his head. “If it helps, tell me the story,” she whispered. 

His shoulders shook for a moment and he shook his head. “Shit.” He stepped back, wiped his eyes, and took a few deep breaths to compose himself before he went on. “The Guild...tracked the shipment to Hawke’s uncle, but as usual, he was so far in debt, he couldn’t see daylight. So, they went after Hawke instead.” He smiled. “They sent guys from the local Carta to Hawke’s estate one night. Five big dusters, armed to the teeth. They kick in the door, and Hawke yells, ‘You’re just in time!’ and drags them over to a game of Wicked Grace. “ He laughed. “They played two hands of cards before the City Guard showed up to take them away. A couple of them became regulars in our weekly game. Hawke just…” the twinkle left Varric’s eyes and the sadness returned. “...had that effect on people.” He shook his head. “I always wanted to tell that one. Thanks.” He turned back towards the fire. Tramp bumped his head against Varric’s hand, and the dwarf scratched the pup behind the ears absentmindedly. “I guess I’ve got some letters to write. Carver should be told.”

“Varric...do Anders and Fenris know?” Ellana asked as gently as she could.

“Not that I know of,” Varric replied with a sigh. “I—I should be the one to tell them…”

Ellana placed her hand on Varric’s shoulder. “No. It was my call. It’s my responsibility. You’ve got enough weighing on you.”

Varric reached up and squeezed her hand. “Brave girl.”

~~~

She elected to visit Fenris first. Cynically, she thought that, in the unlikely event that he killed her, at least she wouldn’t have to tell Anders as well. Not that she was hoping for that. She was merely unsure as to how many waves of anguish she was capable of enduring in one day.

Fenris surprised her, in that he did not react violently. He sank to the floor in a resigned crouch, then sat, drawing his knees to his chest. He tilted his head to the side as if to beckon her to his side. Ellana obliged him and he reached into his pack nearby and pulled out a book, very old, but kept in pristine condition. Magic pulsed from the thing. She guessed that enchantment was it’s source of longevity. “Do you know what this is?” He handed it to her.

“ _A Slave’s Life_ ,” she read the cover.

“This was a gift, given to me by Hawke.” Fenris took her hand and laid it on the cover. “And now, I’m giving it to you.”

Ellana looked up, shocked. “Fenris, I couldn’t possibly—”

He shook his head. “ I insist. You are...the first greatest hope for our people since Shartan, Ellana.” Fenris looked into her eyes. “Learn from his story, from his mistakes. Avoid the pitfalls if you can. Please, I will sleep better if I know that she didn’t...die...for something that was doomed to failure.” She nodded solemnly and put the book in her bag. He got to his feet and held out his hand to help her up. “One more thing.” He walked over to where his belt was hanging and pulled his sword from its scabbard. 

Ellana couldn’t help jumping a little in fright.

“It’s all right,” Fenris said soothingly. “One last gift. Hawke told me that you are a Knight-Enchanter. You can...conjure a magic sword. A longsword, if I’m not mistaken.”

Ellana nodded. 

He held the longsword up so that the light from the afternoon sun that shone through the window gleamed along the blade. “This is Glandivalis. It was given to Shartan by Andraste. As you can see, it is very real. Hawke...killed a demon for it, then gave it to me.” He held it out to Ellana, handle first. “I am not giving it to you, as I still have quite a bit of use left for it, especially now that I will be staying with the Inquisition for the foreseeable future...However, I would be honored if you...took its form for your own.”

Ellana took Glandivalis in hand and studied it thoroughly, taking note of it’s length, it’s heft, trying to put every detail to memory before handing it back to him. “Thank you, Fenris.” She conjured her magic sword for him to observe. “Is this right?”

Fenris circled around her. “Yes. It’s perfect.” He took a seat on his bed. “Is the magister still alive?” he asked quietly.

“For now,” Ellana answered.

Fenris nodded. He closed his eyes, and a single tear rolled down his cheek before he looked up at her again. “Make him _hurt_.”

Ellana paused and considered her options before finally answering,“I will take away that which he holds most dear, Fenris. I promise you that.”

~~~

Anders balled his hand into a fist and shook with rage and grief. “You _dare_ to come here to tell me this alone? You are either incredibly brave or extremely stupid.”

Ellana kept her voice steady. “I am the Inquisitor and I am taking responsibility for my actions.”

Anders strode across the room and backed her against the wall before slamming his fist against the stone. “I could kill you a _hundred_ times over and you could _never_ make up for what you’ve done to us,” he growled, wincing in pain.

Ellana looked up at Anders with a steely glare. “You want revenge? Seek out your fellow Grey Warden mages. Fear corrupted them into murdering the Divine. _They_ helped start this madness. And _they_ were the ones who summoned Nightmare.”

“Then let a _Warden_ pay, not Hawke! Not her!” he screamed. “A Warden’s life is sacrifice, Stroud should have been prepared for that!”

“And leave the Wardens to their own devices with no one to guide them, are you _mad_?” Ellana shouted back. “They tried to raise a demon army, Anders! They were planning to march into the Deep Roads to kill all the remaining Old Gods before they awoke.”

Anders stared at her as it all sunk in. “ _That_ was their plan?”

Ellana nodded.

“That’s a _terrible_ plan,” he said.

“Yes. And Stroud _opposed_ it. Apparently, he’s the _only_ active Grey Warden in southern Thedas with both the brains and the stones to do so. _That_ is why I made the choice I did.” She exhaled, her breath coming out fast like a hiss. “And you’re right. A Grey Warden’s life _is_ sacrifice. It’s just that you are the Grey Warden making the sacrifice and not Stroud.”

“Damn it,” he snarled. “I wish Elissa had just let the Templars kill me.” When Ellana looked at him curiously, he continued, “Warden-Commander Theirin, otherwise known as the Wolf Queen of Ferelden. She...saved me from the Templars and made me a Grey Warden. I thought I was finally free, but ever since then...everything I’ve ever loved has turned to ash.” He paused. “ _Almost_ everything.”

Ellana laid her hand on Anders’ forearm and he leaned in towards her, resting his head on her shoulder and moaned, “How can I raise her alone? I can _barely_ take care of myself!”

Ellana’s breath caught. “Raise who? Anders, _what_ are you talking about?”

“Mirai. Our daughter. She’s three.”

Ellana paused. “Does Fenris know about her?”

Anders nodded.

Ellana hesitated. “ _And_ Varric?”

Anders replied, “I suspect it was part of the reason why he was so hesitant to extend the Inquisition’s invitation to her in the first place. But after what happened at Haven with Corypheus...he couldn’t _not_ ask her to come and...she could not refuse. She felt responsible. And if Corypheus succeeded, there would be nowhere we could run that we could be safe from him.”

“Another Grey Warden _mistake_ ,” Ellana remarked, shaking her head. “Wasn’t it? First by forcing Hawke’s father to help them when they threatened her mother, then by trapping Hawke herself. It—it’s like they just had it in for her.” She looked into Anders’ eyes. “I’m sorry that it had to be me that delivered her to them this time.” 

Anders nodded. “The question remains, however. How can I raise Mirai alone?” He hung his head. “Oh, Marian! How can I go on without you?” 

Ellana laid her hand tentatively on Anders’ shoulder. “I know its not the most comforting of prospects, but the Inquisition will always have a place for you and for Mirai.” 

Anders looked at her, shocked. “I thought our—my amnesty was a package deal.” 

Ellana bit her lip and whispered, “It’s the _least_ I can do. Please, let me _try_ to help in any way I can.” 

Anders turned from Ellana and walked to the door to open it for her. “I’ll think about it, Inquisitor. For now, though, I’d like to be alone. I need to figure out how to explain to our— _my_ daughter that her mother isn’t coming back.” Ellana walked through the door and Anders shut it behind her. 


	2. Vir Nuvenin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Ellana FINALLY consummate their love. Reader discretion advised ;)

Ellana and Cullen hadn’t had a chance to speak since Adamant. They were each pulled in different directions, he towards Captain Rylen to discuss what they were going to do with the fortress, now that it had fallen to the Inquisition, and Ellana to the Grey Wardens to give them their first assignments, before they left in separate caravans to return to Skyhold. It was twilight by the time she opened the door to Cullen’s office.

As usual, he was busy, briefing the soldiers who’d remained at Skyhold about the situation in the Western Approach. It was a side of him she didn’t often get to see, and she took full advantage of his being totally engrossed in his work to watch him. Ellana crept inside and tried to remain inconspicuous as she leaned against the wall behind his men.

“Rylen’s men will monitor the situation,” he said, then nodded curtly. _He looks tired._

“Yes, Ser,” replied a female soldier. “We’ll begin preparations at once.” 

She handed him paperwork to sign and he continued as he looked it over, “In the meantime, we’ll send soldiers to…” 

It was at that moment that Cullen noticed the air had shifted in the room, heralding Ellana’s presence. After everything that had happened in the last week since they’d left Adamant, he wanted nothing more than remove any and all obstacles that separated him from her. “...assist with the relief effort.” He felt his lips curl into a smile despite his best efforts, and of course, his soldiers all turned to look at her, the only thing that could make their Commander get that ridiculously sappy, lovestruck expression on his face. _Let them stare. She is mine._

Ellana flushed under the heat of Cullen’s gaze. There was something delightfully... _feral_ about the way he was sizing her up. 

“That will be all,” he said, before following his men to the door and shutting it behind them. He leaned against the door, silent for a moment.

“Cullen…” Ellana began hesitantly, “about Hawke…”

No sooner had the third word escaped her lips, than he was upon her with a growl. Cullen pushed her against the door and reached up over her head to lock it (a new feature, thanks to Vivienne's meddling), while his other hand lifted her off the ground so she could wrap her legs around his hips. Ellana was braced against the door and clung to him for dear life as he began haphazardly removing his cloak and armor, mumbling “in the way,” against her bruised lips. He slipped his hand under her shirt and then pulled sharply with a grunt, ripping it open and sending buttons scattering in every direction.

By the time he carried her to his desk, they were both stripped to the waist, she was tugging his hair and he was sucking her bottom lip.

Ellana’s eyes popped open. As much as she wanted this, she needed to talk to him. “Cullen!” It came out a little garbled because her lip was still in his mouth.

“Mmm?” Cullen grunted, his eyes still shut.

Ellana sighed and reluctantly tugged again, this time firmly enough that there would be no mistaking that she meant business. “Cullen! I _have_ to talk to you.”

Cullen released her with a groan. “It’s been too long.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his. “I know, Vhenan. It...it should be...I’ll be brief.”

He opened his eyes at that, and caressed her cheek gently, his gaze full of concern. “You’re worried.”

“I _never_ worry,” she said with a weak smirk.

Cullen raised an eyebrow at her. “I _almost_ believe you.” He kissed her eyelids. “Talk to me, darling.”

Ellana took a deep breath. “First, I’m sorry about Hawke. I know how important she was to—”

“Cassandra told me what happened in there. I might not...like it, but it was...it was the right call to make in a bad situation. If you’re worried about my being angry at you—”

“Or hurt—”

“Yes,” he continued, “ or hurt.” Cullen sighed and ran his fingers through Ellana’s hair. “I don’t blame _you_ ,” he said softly, sliding his hand down to the back of her neck and tugging her closer. “And I’m not just saying that because I have you half naked on my desk. I swear.” He couldn’t help but smirk a little.

Ellana fought the urge to laugh. “There’s more,” she said, screwing her eyes tight shut.

“There’s _more_?” he repeated.

It had been weighing on her since Adamant, and she had no one to talk to about it. She was, for the most part, occupied with attending to Cassandra and her feelings about what she'd seen in the Fade. It had likely been assumed that a Dalish apostate wouldn't have a significant emotional investment in being the Herald of Andraste, but it wasn't the possibility of losing her place in the hearts of the Theodosians who believed in her that vexed her, save for one: Cullen. “I’m not what you think I am,” she whimpered, overwhelmed with the fear that he would reject her once he knew the truth. “I—I’m _not_ the Herald of Andraste.”

“What?” Cullen asked.

Ellana still couldn’t bear to open her eyes, afraid to see the disappointment that would surely be on Cullen’s face. “It was Divine Justinia who was leading me out of the Fade, not Andraste,” she cried, tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks. “She got taken by demons while trying to save me. The Divine died for a Dalish apostate nobody!” She hung her head. “I wasn’t chosen, I—I’m just an _accident_.”

“Don’t _say_ that,” Cullen admonished softly, as her started to kiss her tears away. “You’ve done _so_ much good—”

“I’m here, and she’s _dead_ ,” Ellana continued, her chin trembling. “We could have had peace, but instead we have me...and war.”

“War was inevitable,” Cullen assured her. “Both sides were itching for a fight and it was a long time coming. Justinia may have been able to negotiate a temporary cease-fire, but tensions would still have been boiling under the surface. Also, it doesn’t matter if the Divine saved you or if Andraste Herself saved you. They’re both representatives of the Maker. The difference is a technicality.”

Ellana opened her eyes slowly and peered at Cullen hesitantly. “There’s...one more thing.”

He sighed and kissed her forehead. “It’s not going to change the way I feel about you, Ellana,” Cullen said firmly.

“Don’t be so sure,” she whispered huskily and held up her flickering hand. “This isn’t from your Maker. It’s elven magic. The orb was a foci from one of our Gods, I don’t know which one. Somehow Corypheus got hold of it, was trying to...crack it open for himself by sacrificing the Divine, but I interrupted him. After Justinia knocked the orb to the ground, I picked it up and the magic...stuck to me.”

Cullen was silent for a while. Then he said, “I see.” He kissed her temple, her cheek, and the tip of her nose. “You’re scared that I’ll be disappointed, that somehow this makes you less special, less lovable to me.”

Ellana gulped. It sounded ludicrous when he said it out loud, but she had to acknowledge the truth of his words. She nodded silently.

Cullen drew close and whispered, “I’ve loved you for _so_ long. Well before you were the Herald of Andraste and I was the Commander of the Inquisition.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her ear. “I don’t love the Anchor. I don’t love a symbol, or a figurehead. I love _you_ , silly girl.”

They fell silent for almost a whole minute, with Cullen lingering, his lips just ghosting hers, his fingertips nervously tapping the table and the back of her neck. Ellana traced circles with her fingertip on his chest and when she felt his breath hitch, she looked up. 

"Ellana..." Cullen whispered, "Were you telling me all that because you...because you want to distance yourself from me?"

"What?" she asked. "No! I...just didn't want it to come between us later. I thought...you should know."

Cullen shook his head and looked at the floor. "It's just that, well, you've been having nightmares, or you were, before Adamant." He took a deep breath. "About your Clan. I thought that maybe you wanted to..." He looked up at her then with tears in his eyes. "Leave me."

"Creators, no!" Ellana cried. She reached up and dragged her thumb along his bottom lip. "Cullen, I don't want anything to come between us. _Ever_."

" _Nothing_?" He asked, blinking.

She shook her head slowly.

Cullen looked at her, then at his desk, which she was still seated on, as well as the somewhat organized clutter he called his work. Something deep within him boiled. He was tired of work coming between them, and more than anything he wanted to show her beyond a shadow of a doubt that his feelings towards her had not changed. He looked at her one more time with a smirk before sweeping everything else onto the floor in one grand gesture. 

Ellana gasped. _It's not like him to make such a mess on purpose._ She looked up at him, a surprised quirk to her lips.

Cullen smiled down at her, his eyes dilated with lust. "We do _not_ need these things," he growled, as he crawled onto the desk after Ellana. As he settled on top of her, she instinctively parted her legs for him. 

“Oof!” grunted Ellana. Then she giggled.

“Sorry,” Cullen said with a bashful grin before kissing her.

“Your desk has _no_ give,” Ellana replied with a grin. “ _Whatsoever_.” She tangled her hands in his hair and pulled him down further to kiss him back.

“Mmm. But it’s _sturdy_ ,” Cullen said as he pressed his hips to hers.

“Yes...it...is,” Ellana said squeezing him with her thighs. “Ohhhhhhhh…”

Cullen had started to bite and suck her neck, leaving a flushed trail from her ear to her collarbone. He grunted and his eyes rolled back when she thrust her hips against him in response. But when he started to roll her hardening nipple with a callused thumb…

“Cullen…” she moaned. “Please, oh please, oh please!”

He sucked the other nipple into his mouth briefly, then released it with a pop and a chuckle. “Yes, Inquisitor?”

Even after all this time, she still didn’t know how to ask. “I—I want…”

Cullen’s heart stuttered with anticipation and he rolled his hips against her shamelessly. “Say it.”

Ellana bit her lip. “I want you inside me,”she said, blushing furiously and her voice barely audible.

“Louder,” Cullen growled, tweaking her nipple.

Ellana raised her eyebrow at him. 

Cullen sighed and got up off of the desk with an amused smirk. “So you’re going to make me work for it, then?” He tugged her skirt and smalls down and threw them into the corner of the room. “Very well, but remember; I gave you a chance to speak up.” Then he slipped his tongue into her slit and dragged it slowly up to her clit before leaving a feather light kiss on that little bundle of nerves. He whispered, his lips brushing against her swollen cunt, “Say it.”

Ellana thrust her hips up in an effort to get Cullen to put more pressure on her clit and ended up hitting him on the chin.

“Ow!”

“Ha!” she laughed. “That’s what you get!”

Cullen was more amused and aroused than hurt. “You insatiable little demon!” He grabbed her by the hips and practically dove between her legs. Between licking and sucking her cunt mercilessly, he growled, “You’re going to pay for that!”

“Ooh!” Ellana’s whole body shook as she vainly tried to shake off his grip on her. “P—promise?”

“Yes,” he replied, his voice choked with lust. “I am going to fuck you until you scream, until all of Skyhold knows I’ve made you mine.”

Ellana's insides quivered. “Ohhhhhhh, Cullen! Say that again!” 

Cullen’s cock, heavy, hard, and aching, jumped in response to her unbridled enthusiasm. He hesitated only for a moment as it dawned on him that yes, she really wanted to do this. Now.

“Say it!” he moaned as he rolled her clit with his fingers. “Tell me you’re mine, tell me you want me.”

“Cullen!” Ellana screamed. “I am yours! Please!”

“Please. What.”

“Please fuck me!” Ellana yelped. Then she smiled broadly and shivered with anticipation as she heard the sound of Cullen’s belt hitting the floor.

“Are you sure?” Cullen asked, as he positioned himself between her legs.

“Yes, I want this. Want...you. Cullen, please,” Ellana whimpered, bouncing her hips anxiously in the vain hope that she could somehow accidentally get him to penetrate her.

“I’ve heard it... _hurts_...the first time,” he said. Cullen rubbed his cock along her slit, making himself slick with her desire for him.

“Don’t care.” 

That wasn’t entirely true. Ellana had been concerned about this part ever since the first time she’d laid eyes on his manhood. She was a petite woman, and, well, he was a big man in more ways than one. But he didn’t have to know about that. Cullen was about to be smug enough for the next few weeks, he didn’t need any additional encouragement or Leliana might shiv him. 

Ellana wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him forwards.

Cullen grinned down at her, then grabbed her gently by the waist and slowly, oh, so slowly, started to push into her.

Ellana arched her back and hissed. _I am going to be sore tomorrow, but Dread Wolf take me, it's going to be worth it._ She could feel Cullen shaking from the effort of holding himself back from slamming into her completely. She placed her hands on his and caressed them with her thumbs to encourage him. “Hoo,” she cooed.

“Sssssooooo tight,” Cullen moaned. “Ohhhh Maker!” He could feel her walls part for him as he entered her little by little. 

“Ah, ah, ah!” Ellana cried out with every push.

“You all right?” he gasped.

“Go ahead, Cullen.” She nodded and looked up into his eyes, “Go all in. I’m ready.”

Cullen, who had always been diligent and prompt when following orders, hilted himself in her fully.

“Maker!”

“Creators!” 

Ellana’s eyes flew open, and she gripped the edges of Cullen’s desk, digging into the wood with her fingernails as she struggled to adjust to the feeling of being filled so completely. Cullen leaned forward, head bowed, his hands on either side of her, but managed to stay in. Then he looked up at her, revealing a deliriously happy, crooked grin. “I love you,” he whispered.

Ellana relaxed and smiled back. She was especially amused at how all the sweat was making Cullen's hair curl. “I love—” she began, but she stopped short, her eyes rolling back as Cullen reached down between them and began to massage her clit. “Ungh!”

“Hmm?” he said as he pulled out, almost all the way, and then thrust into her. 

But Ellana had lost all power of speech beyond one word. “Cuuuuuuuulllllllllennnnnn…” she moaned.

“Yessssss,” Cullen hissed in return, shutting his eyes tight. It was a few moments before he realized that she wasn’t asking him a question. It was demand, plea, and exaltation. He smiled. “I want...I want to feel you come. Ellana, please!” 

She blushed furiously but nodded her assent.

Cullen proceeded to do everything he could to try to make his desire a reality. He lifted one of her legs and pulled it around him, then leaned down, supporting himself with one hand while he kneaded one of her breasts with the other and licked the shell of her ear, all while thrusting into her wildly.

Ellana was nearly drowning in pleasure and couldn’t hold out any longer. Her cry for Cullen as she clenched around his cock in a frenzy was almost drowned out by the accompanying thunder outside.

~~~

“Ellana?” Cullen asked. “Darling?”

Ellana was staring up at the ceiling, flushed, panting, and unresponsive.

Cullen pulled out of her, gently let her leg down, and leaned forward. “Was it...alright?”

That got her attention. “Cullen, I saw the Creators.” She blinked quickly and smiled up at him. “ _Was it alright_ , he asks.” Ellana rolled her eyes and snorted. “If you hadn’t knocked everything off the desk, I’d throw something at your head.” She sat up and stuck out her tongue at him, then gasped in surprise when he swooped forward and sucked her tongue. She looked down. “You didn’t get to finish.” She reached down between his legs and dragged her fingers from the root of his cock to the tip.

Cullen shut his eyes and inhaled sharply. “Templar discipline.”

Ellana arched her eyebrow and squeezed him lightly. “Oh, _really_. Is that all it is?”

“Well, I think I can relax a little bit more now since I know I can…” he blushed and bit his lip, “please you.”

She tugged him gently. “That’s it?”

He grunted. “Mmm. And I’m tired of standing. It’s been a long day.” He opened his eyes and caressed her cheek. “Do you want to...go upstairs?”

Ellana smiled. “I’ve been up there before, Cullen.”

Cullen helped her to her feet and kissed her. “Not like _this_ , you haven’t.”

~~~

Cullen and Ellana landed on his bed in a torrid embrace. She reached down to caress his cock again, fascinated by its hardness. “How do you—”

“Anticipation,” he answered, scootching backwards until he came into contact with the headboard. “It happens a lot.” He looked up at her with an expression of mock desperation. “It’s _torture_!” He held her wrist and helped her hand to slide up and down his manhood. “Save me, Herald of Andraste!” he cried out. “Quell my suffering!”

Ellana burst out laughing as she crawled on top of him and sat just behind his cock, stroking it slowly. “Are you ready, Cullen?”

He shut his eyes, “Maker. Yes. Please!”

She snorted, “The Maker’s not going to fuck you, Cullen.” She squeezed him gently. “ _I_ am.”

His cock jumped in her hand in response. Ellana smiled. “Oh, you _like_ that.” She leaned forward and licked his cock from root to tip, tasting herself on him. Cullen shuddered and tangled his fingers in her hair. “Ellana! Please—”

She sat up, moved forward and gripped him, sliding his cock against her throbbing, wet core. “You can pray, you can recite your Chant…” she wiggled so that the head was the only part inside her. “But you do it to _me_ when you come.”

Cullen groaned as Ellana began to ease herself down his cock slowly. “I shall bring the lands of my fathers to Her Word…” he began.

He cried out when she unexpectedly slammed down, taking him inside her tight wet cunt completely. Ellana giggled breathlessly. "Payback...is so..." she started to buck up and down in his lap, throwing her head back in ecstasy. "So sweet."

Cullen found his rhythm and met her thrust for thrust. “Therein lies their salvation and mine...”

He reached up and almost reverently caressed her cheek before bringing his other hand up to knead her bouncing breasts. “And She came to me in a vision…” Cullen took her Anchor hand and held it in place on his chest. “...and laid Her hand on my heart.” Leaving her hand there, her returned to her breasts and grunted as he began to feel her cunt tighten around his cock.

“Her touch,” he moaned, “was like fire...that did not...ungh—burn!” “And by Her touch, I—I..."

Cullen came undone beneath his beloved Inquisitor with a strangled cry and a string of curses he most definitely did not learn in the Chantry.

~~~

“...was made pure again,” he whispered hoarsely after he regained the ability to speak.

Cullen opened his eyes. 

The world had not ended.

He had not been struck by lightning. 

Ellana was still astride him, panting, eyes closed, skin glowing in the candlelight. When she opened her eyes, she beamed at him. Cullen gasped. That glow, her sweat, her smile, it was all because of him. _For the first time in my life, I have made something beautiful happen_. He reached up to caress her cheek and she, in turn, pressed her face into his hand to tenderly kiss his palm. “Andraste preserve me,” he whispered, “you’re—you’re so...you’re dazzling.”

Ellana laughed softly. “You don’t have to say that, Vhenan.” She opened her eyes, leaned down, and kissed his chest, his neck, the corner of his mouth. “You already have me here.”

“I _want_ to say it,” Cullen said earnestly. He sat up, slipping out of her as he did so. When she pouted, he chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll put it back soon enough,” he teased before pressing his forehead to hers. “You are…” he sighed happily, “I have _never_ felt anything like this.”

Ellana’s lips twitched. She was so giddy that her instinct was to joke, but she could tell that Cullen was trying to be serious. She bit her lip to suppress the urge to crack wise and instead said, “I love you.” She ran her fingers through his unruly curls. “You know that, right?”

“I certainly hope so,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with merriment. Her mood was not lost on him after all. “Your mirth is contagious, you little demon!” He kissed her, then paused, staring, as if something had just occurred to him. “Wait right there!” Cullen dove for the drawer of his bedside table with such force, that he knocked Ellana off of him and onto the floor. 

“Sorry!” Cullen exclaimed a few moments later. “I got...excited.”

Ellana smirked and held up her hand so that he could pull her back up, “So I gathered.”

But Cullen didn’t pull her to her feet. Instead he took her hand and slipped something onto her finger before quickly withdrawing and peering at her over the edge of the bed, blushing furiously.

At first, Ellana was annoyed at having to get up by herself. She scowled as she got to her feet and scratched her head. “What are you staring at?” she asked.

Cullen was blushing so hard that he then resorted to pulling the covers haphazardly over his head. “Other than the most beautiful woman in Thedas?”

She laughed. “Yes.”

She could hear Cullen sigh under the blanket. “Look at your hand, darling.”

Ellana did as she was told. There, on her left ring finger, was a rose gold band with purple diamonds set in the shape of a flower, adorned in an embrace of smaller white diamonds. “Oh, Cullen!” she whispered, as happy tears started to blur her eyes.

Cullen pulled the cover off of his head and looked at her seriously. “Do you like it?”

Ellana marched over to Cullen’s bed, grabbed a pillow and hit him in the head with it before jumping on top of him, peppering his face with kisses as she straddled him.

He laughed. “I guess that answers my question.” He gently pushed her away so that she was sitting upright. She opened her mouth to protest, but he hushed her. “I want to remember this moment.” Cullen took a deep breath and fought the urge to hide his face or shut his eyes. “Ellana of Clan Lavellan...will you, um, Maker…”

She smiled and caressed his cheek gently. “Take your time.”

Cullen bit his lip, sure that his face matched his scarlet coverlet. “I want to marry you, Ellana. Do you want to marry me?”

Her eyes widened. Just then, they heard Sera shout across Skyhold, “Say yes, you tit!”

“Maker’s Breath, how long have they been watching?” Cullen asked, rolling his eyes. He wrapped a sheet around his waist and walked towards the window facing the Herald’s Rest. There, in Sera’s room, were Dorian, Bull, and Sera herself, who was tussling with Dorian over a spyglass.

“Don’t bother covering up, we’ve already seen it!” shouted Dorian. “Congratulations, my love! You caught yourself a keeper!”

Ellana waved back cheekily. Cullen stared at her as he retreated back to his bed and she grinned at him. “You’re the one who wanted Skyhold to hear me screaming your name. It looks like you got your wish.”

“Maker.” Cullen crawled under the covers and pulled the blanket over his blushing face.

“Cullen?” Ellana asked.

He pulled the cover down just enough to reveal his eyes. “Yes, darling?” came his muffled response.

Ellana gently tugged the blanket down and caressed his cheek. “ _Yes_ ,” she whispered.

There was a pause as Cullen replayed the conversation in his mind, then— “Wooooooo!” he roared, as he threw the covers off and hopped out of bed.

Ellana was startled, but pleasantly so. She giggled when Cullen scooped her up into his arms and spun her around the room back to the window. “She said yes!” he shouted with an expression of pure joy. His announcement was met with raucous applause.

Ellana looked up at him and saw that there were tears in his eyes before he let her down and held her tightly to him. “You are _mine_ ,” he whispered. “And I am yours, utterly and completely.” He kissed her softly and pressed his forehead to hers. “ _Forever_.”


	3. The Real Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana and Varric encourage Cole to grow , much to the chagrin of Solas.

Cullen startled awake from yet another nightmare. For a few terrifying moments, he didn’t know where he was, but when he felt Ellana’s hand upon his face, heard her voice, and tasted her on his tongue...he remembered.

And he exhaled.

He looked away from her. “Sorry, another nightmare...they always are. Without lyrium, they’re worse.”

She tilted her head at him. “You don’t have to apologize to me, Cullen. I think I should be used to it by now.” She ran her fingers through his dampened curls and looked around his room before turning back to look at him with a smirk. “Although I’m not sure the surroundings are helping you.”

He rolled his eyes. _Here we go again with the holes._ “It’s fine, Ellana. I’m fine. Really.”

She shook her head. “Worst liar in Thedas. Listen, Winter is coming in just a couple of months, and because we’re in the mountains it will not only hit earlier, but it also will likely hit harder. I do not want my Commander…” She leaned in to kiss him tenderly. “...and my _husband_ to catch his death.” Her voice took on an officious tone. “As Inquisitor, I order you, Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition—”

“You can’t—”

She raised an eyebrow at him and he shut his mouth. “—to move in with me. Effective tomorrow.”

He smirked. “Why the delay?”

“Because,” she said, climbing on top of him, “we’re not going anywhere today. I’m giving you the day off.”

Cullen pulled the blanket over them. “Mmm. Best boss ever.”

~~~

Soon after the breakfast bells rang, there was a knock downstairs.

“Maker…” Cullen groaned as he thrust into Ellana from behind, “Go. Away.”

Ellana giggled. “See, if we were in _my_ room, this wouldn’t happen.”

He grunted and squeezed her breasts playfully. “Someone doesn’t remember the time Josephine and Leliana waltzed in without knocking.”

The pounding grew louder. So did the sound from downstairs. Shapeley called out, “Ser! Special delivery. Very sensitive materials!”

“Someone must miss Orlais,” Cullen whispered.

Ellana sighed and wiggled free much to his chagrin. “Well, one of us is going to have to go down there. Who’s it going to be?”

He smirked. “I’ll go. We still can’t find your smalls, remember?”

She raised her eyebrow at him as he got out of bed and pulled on his trousers. “It’s a long skirt, Cullen. No one would know.” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip. “Easier access for you.”

He snorted as he walked to the ladder. “I don’t know, I rather like finding new and creative ways of taking them off of you.” He turned and grinned crookedly at her. “Food for thought.”

When Cullen opened the door, Shapeley shoved a box into his hands and ran, yelling, “It wasn’t my idea!”

Perplexed, he went back inside, bolted the door, opened the box, and looked inside.

“Ellana!”

~~~

Cullen opened the box with a frown. Ellana, in contrast, was delighted. “Oh, how thoughtful!” She grinned, dug her fingers inside, and smeared chocolate cake into his mouth. He closed his eyes and moaned as she continued. “Look, everyone pitched in! See, that’s Dorian’s handwriting—”

“Congratulations on the sex?” he mumbled, his mouth still full of cake.

“Sera contributed artwork and probably did the actual baking—”

“Cocks everywhere,” he said as he finally gulped down his food. “And the shape of the cake itself is...um....” He cleared his throat. “Familiar.”

Ellana was either willfully ignoring Cullen’s discomposure, or she truly was distracted by the demented generosity of their friends. “Bull probably supervised everything and gave them the chocolate for the cake from his secret stash. I’m so touched!”

Cullen smirked at her, grabbed a handful of cake and smashed it into her mouth. “You are now.”

~~~

The next morning, Ellana left Cullen’s quarters with the intention of returning to her own in order to make room for his personal effects. She was practically skipping across the grounds when she saw Cole and Solas walking through the courtyard, having an intense disagreement.

“No!” Solas said firmly.

“But you _like_ demons!” Cole protested.

“I enjoy the company of spirits, yes,” explained Solas, “which is why I do not abuse them with bindings.”

“It isn’t abuse if I ask!”

The Iron Bull, who was nearby, grunted, “If this conversation were between any other two people in the world, I might be a little...concerned.”

“Not always true!” Solas countered, “Also, I do not practice blood magic, which renders this entire conversation academic.”

“Aaaaaaaaaand there we are,” said Bull. “Now, I feel better.”

Cole saw Ellana and did a double take as if he didn’t recognize her at first. His features soon softened, though, and he approached her. “He won’t bind me. He’s a mage, and he likes demons, but he _won’t_ help!”

Ellana had never heard Cole sound so frantic and afraid. “Why would you want Solas to bind you?” she asked gently.

“So I’m safe!” Cole cried. “If Solas won’t do the ritual to bind me, someone else could. Will! Maybe Fiona knows someone amongst our mages—”

Ellana’s mind immediately turned to Anders, but she said nothing. She would not lay that burden on him now. Not after Justice.

“Curly’s not going to like that,” Bull remarked.

Ellana had been worried that Cole would have read her mind as always, and then set off in order to persuade Anders, but he appeared to be too distracted to do so. He shuddered. “I’m not me anymore. Walls around what I want, blocking, bleeding, making me a monster.”

Ellana felt sad for Cole. A spirit of Compassion being shown so little by others, people he cared about. “There has to be some middle ground between ‘do nothing’ and ‘bind Cole with blood magic.’ We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

She had just turned to leave when Solas spoke up. “I have a suggestion, if Cole is ready to listen.” His tone sounded remarkably like a father chastising his wayward son. “I recall stories of amulets used by Rivaini seers to protect spirits they summoned from rival mages.A spirit wearing the amulet of the unbound was immune to blood magic and binding. It should protect Cole as well.” He looked at Ellana and raised his eyebrow. “The resources of the Inquisition could be used to find such a talisman.”

“Good,” Cole replied as he stalked off, “they will not take me.”

The amulets were rare, and highly prized among the Rivaini. Ellana was convinced that it was going to cost the Inquisition a fortune to acquire one. She left it up to the silver tongue of Josephine and hoped for the best.

~~~

Ellana was soaking contentedly in her lavender-scented bath when Sera let herself in from the balcony. “What?” she shrugged, “It was open!”

Ellana rolled her eyes and sunk a little deeper into the bath, blowing bubbles on the surface of the water.

Sera drew near, nostrils flaring as she sniffed the air. “That the stuff Vivienne got you?”

Ellana nodded. “It’s sooooo nice, and there’s something in here that makes my skin really soft, too.”

“A nice change from a dip in some cold, muddy-bottom river, right?” Sera smirked. “Cully-Wully will appreciate that.”

“I think this was some sort of sideways gift to him for allowing her to have locks installed on the doors of his office, actually.” Ellana said. She looked up at Sera. “You want to come in? I just drew the bath a little while ago, so the water’s still warm, but not so much so that you’ll cook.”

Sera fidgeted. “I don’t know…”

“Oh come on! When was the last time you bathed?”

Sera began to count on her fingers.

“See? This is what I mean!” Ellana said, splashing the rogue with bathwater. “Strip!”

~~~

“By the Dread Wolf, Sera!” Ellana said as she passed a bar of soap to her companion, “ _Where_ did you find a cunt-shaped mold for that cake?”

Sera took the soap and started to rub it into a wet washcloth. “How do you know it was me?” she asked innocently. “Could have been anybody.”

Ellana just stared at her.

Sera handed the soap back to Ellana and started to scrub herself down. “It could have been Dorian.”

“No.” Ellana sunk underneath the water to wet her hair.

“Why not?” Sera asked when Ellana resurfaced.

“Dorian can’t cook,” Ellana replied as she began to wash her hair. “He had slaves to do that for him, remember?”

“He can rough it...a little,” Sera insisted before . “He camped out for two weeks in the wilderness without anyone to mind him. Has to be able to cook something, right? S’more than what I can do.”

“Frying fish over a fire he made with magic does not really compare with baking a cake shaped like something he’s likely never set eyes on in his life,” Ellana retorted.

Sera smiled mischievously as she made demon horns with the suds in her hair and waggled her eyebrows. “Are you angry, Inky?”

“Delighted,” Ellana said with a bright smile. “If the whole Red Jenny thing gets boring or if you ever want something more stable, maybe you should open up your own anarchist bakery! I’m sure they’d love your confections in Orlais. And you can use the money you make to fund some of your more...subversive endeavors.”

A grin slowly spread across Sera’s face. Just then, Cullen knocked on, and opened, the door. “Darling, I—” He bobbled the box he had been holding, but luckily did not drop it as it was filled almost to the brim with glass bottles of grooming supplies.

Ellana blew a kiss to him. “Hello, Commander.”

He stammered, “I—is this what it looks like?”

“Two pretty elven girls taking a bath together?” Ellana countered with an innocent expression, “Why yes. Yes it is.”

“Right,” he answered, before setting the box on the sink’s countertop. “I’m going to be...putting my...um, books...away. Over there.”

Ellana nodded and he let himself out.

After the door closed behind him, the girls giggled.

~~~

After she’d dried off, Ellana strolled into her bedroom. _Their bedroom_ , she reminded herself. Cullen stood with his back to her, rearranging the books in the bookcase. She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we have enough room for your secret romance novel stash.”

“And my Genitivi collection?” he asked as he turned and gently tugged her towel open. He took an end in each hand and pulled her closer to him.

“If you ask me sweetly,” she whispered as she wrapped one arm around his neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

“Ellana…” Cullen moaned in between kisses, “May I...pretty please…”

“With sugar on top,” she added, licking his scar.

He grunted as he dropped the towel, slid his hands over her ass and lifted her up under her thighs so she could wrap her legs around him while he carried her to bed. “With sugar on top,” he whispered as he nipped along her collarbone.

They both soon forgot what his question had been about in the first place, but Cullen did get what he wanted, and as a bonus Ellana made space for his beloved books as well.

~~~

“I can’t assign Josephine to do it if I can’t find her marker!” exclaimed Ellana as she searched frantically about the War Room.

Cullen sighed as he pulled his smalls and trousers back up. “It’s just a symbol. She takes...excellent notes—what are you staring at?”

“Now I know why I felt like we were being watched,” she replied. She pointed over at the Tranquil skull that sat in Leliana’s corner, one of the only items that hadn’t been knocked to the floor during their latest tryst. “Why does she feel the need to keep that thing on the War Table? It’s so creepy.”

Cullen handed Ellana her smalls and started to lace up her dress in the back. “Perhaps it helps put her into the mindset of the whole...assassination and skullduggery thing, otherwise she might get distracted by shoes.” He turned her around and kissed her on the nose. “I guess it’s better than keeping a jar with someone’s tongue floating in it.”

“Maybe she keeps that in her bedroom,” Ellana retorted as she reached up and combed through his tousled hair with delicate fingers.

Cullen shuddered and shook his head. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

~~~

Within a week, the amulet arrived, free of charge no less, from a seer extremely sympathetic to Cole’s plight. She included detailed instructions and an open invitation for the Inquisitor to visit her in Rivain when time allowed, surprised as she was by someone outside of Rivain having such respect for spirits.

Cole seemed to sense its arrival. He was standing right outside the War Room when Ellana exited with the amulet. Together, they went to see Solas.

“What do I do with it?” Cole asked as they entered the room.

Solas got up from his chair, intrigued. “You’ve found one of the amulets. Excellent! May I?” He reached out to Ellana and she handed the talisman to him. He examined it briefly, then explained, “It is simple enough. You put it on, I charge it with magic, and you should be protected.”

Ellana turned to Cole. “Are you ready?”

He nodded, and put on the amulet. “They can’t make me a monster.”

Solas channeled magical energy into the amulet until Cole yelped in pain.

Varric sauntered in to see what was going on. “What was that?” he asked.

” He took one look at the three people standing in the center of the room and rolled his eyes. “Oh for...what are you doing to the kid?”

Cole turned around and answered, “Stopping blood mages from binding me like the demons at Adamant. But it didn’t work.” As if it were the most normal thing in Thedas.

Solas added, “Something is interfering with the enchantment.”

Varric folded his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrow at Solas. “Something like Cole not being a demon?”

Ellana nodded. “Solas, is it possible that the amulet doesn’t work on Cole because he’s too...human?”

Solas was dismissive. “Regardless of Cole’s special circumstances, he remains a spirit.”

There was a twinkle in Varric’s eyes as he smiled. “Yes, a spirit who is _strangely_ like a person!”

Cole was still concerned about the failure of the binding. “ _I_ don’t matter. Just lock away the parts of me that someone else could knot together to make me follow.”

Solas sought more information. “Focus on the amulet,” he commanded. “Tell me what you feel.”

There was a pause, then—”Warm, soft blanket covering, but it catches, tears, I’m the wrong shape. There’s something…” He stopped suddenly, turned and pointed decisively northeast. “There. That way.”

Ellana smirked. “It appears we have something to find.”

Varric instructed Cole. “All right, kid. Get Cullen and work with him on the map to figure out where you’re sensing something wrong.”

This would likely take significant time away from moving his things into her apartment. But, Cassandra owed her a favor, and she did have other business to attend to as well…

Cole tentative lifted his eyes to gaze at the faces of every single other person in the room. “Will you come with me? All of you?”

Varrice smiled gently. “Sure.” After Cole left the room, he drew closer to a dubious looking Solas. “All right, I get it. You like spirits. But he came into this world to be a person. Let him _be_ one.”

“If I see a way to protect Cole without taking away...whatever he is, I’ll use it. But Cole clearly needs our help.” Ellana tried to come off as neutral as possible. Solas had been prickly with her earlier in the day, at breakfast, about Adamant, as he disapproved strongly of what he saw as her lenience, reluctant though it may have been, towards the Grey Wardens. They then quarreled rather bitterly; Solas thought Ellana was being too insurgent and impulsive, while Ellana found Solas’ stance to be disturbingly passive. She saw his reluctance to let Cole change as further evidence of this reticence.

“I’m not saying we do nothing,” said Varric. “But that ritual of theirs only works on demons, right?”

Solas got offended. “This is not some fanciful story, child of the stone. We cannot change our nature by wishing.”

Varric raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think?”

Solas looked away. “However we deal with the problem, the next step is to track down whatever is interfering with the enchantment.”

It was Ellana’s turn for a double take, delayed though it was. “Varric...it’s Friday. Don’t you always wear your red tunic on Fridays?”

She could have sworn she saw Varric’s cheeks flush. “It’s...indisposed...at the moment.”

Ellana raised her eyebrow. She had her suspicions, but said nothing yet. She would need to confirm them for herself.

~~~

Ellana entered the armory looking for Cassandra. She found her upstairs, reading, a cup of tea in front of her on the table that read “BEST SEEKER EVER.”

“Nice tunic,” Ellana said, leaning against a nearby wall and slipping her hands into the pockets of her skirt. “More casual than I’m used to seeing from you.”

“It’s...casual Friday,” answered Cassandra, avoiding eye contact. “Remember, you instituted that yourself when we cut down on injuries in the field.”

“Mmm-hmm. It’s been in place for three months now. This is the first time I’ve ever seen you take it to heart.”

“My armor is being polished,” she replied.

Ellana narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “It’s Varric’s.”

“Yes,” admitted Cassandra. “It is.”

A almost disturbingly gleeful smile spread slowly across Ellana’s face. Cassandra was taken aback. Her eyes widened. “What?”

“You and Varric!” Ellana covered her mouth in shock.

“Don’t be absurd,” Cassandra retorted, “I’m just borrowing it from him!”

“Oh really? Did he give you the matching choker as well?” Ellana asked with a smirk.

“Wha—” Cassandra’s fingers shot to her neck.

“I’d suggest you pop your collar, but...well, you don’t have one,” Ellana said with a wink. She crossed the room and pulled up a chair across from Cassandra. “Or! Or you could own it.” She smiled and took Cassandra’s hand. “How long have you wanted this?”

Cassandra bit her lip. “I’m not sure. I was...in mourning. My lo—” She shook her head. “Galyan. His name was Regalyan D’Marcall. He died at the Conclave. I lost...everything. My love, Most Holy, my place in the Seekers, everything gone.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”

“No wonder why you wanted to kill me.”

“I didn’t want to kill—well, maybe I did.” The Seeker chuckled. “A little. It didn’t seem fair. I thought I had somehow displeased the Maker. The only survivor a complete stranger—a mage—and not even Andrastian. But I didn’t have time for self-pity, just anger. Thank the Maker for Cullen.”

“Cullen?”

“He knew what it was like to lose so much so quickly. How excruciating it is to be left alone in the dark. He was almost consumed by his anger, but he came out the other side,” Cassandra answered. “Take...care of yourself Ellana. I won’t always be by your side, but I want you to know that I would lay down my life to make sure he doesn’t have to lose you too.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that, Cassandra. A lot of people would miss you. Varric would miss you.”

Cassandra snorted and sipped her tea. “Varric isn’t in love with me.”

“You think you were just a diversion?” Ellana asked. “There are a dozen barmaids who would slug it out to be one of his ‘diversions’ but I haven’t heard of him taking advantage of such things. Cassandra Pentaghast is not a diversion. You are golden, don’t ever forget that.”

Cassandra smiled. “I may be golden, but you are the alchemist. The Inquisition is gold from the dross. You made that happen.”

They slipped into a comfortable silence for a while, then— “Where did you get the mug?”

Cassandra smiled sadly. “Daniel. My apprentice. You met him at Caer Owsin.”

Ellana nodded, “Do you miss him?”

Cassandra looked at the sunbeams streaming in from the window, capturing the dust motes in their eternal dance. “I try to honor him every day. In little things. Like this.” She squeezed Ellana’s hand. “I’m working through it. Sometimes that's all we have."

~~~

Two days later, Ellana, Cole, Solas, and Varric arrived in Redcliffe. When Cole spotted a well-dressed human male speaking to a dwarf wearing Carta colors, he quickened his pace. The man glimpsed them approaching out of the corner of his eye and broke off his conversation to address them. “Greetings. Can I help you?”

Cole narrowed his eyes. “You!” he growled. Ellana had never seen him so angry. In seconds, less than seconds, it happened so quickly that she never actually saw Cole move from her side to standing over the kneeling stranger with one hand clutching his skull, the other holding one of his daggers aloft. He just...wasn’t there anymore. And then he was...over there. “You killed me!” Cole cried.

The kneeling man looked genuinely confused. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “What, I don’t...I don’t even _know_ you!”

“You forgot. You locked me in a dungeon in the Spire, and you forgot, and I died in the dark!”

A Templar. Or, that was, a former Templar. One, who at best was so deep in the throes of his addiction that he was already experiencing memory loss at a relatively young age. The dwarf must have been his lyrium supplier. At worst, he was a cold-blooded murderer and a liar.

“The Spire?”

She had never known Cole to be wrong about anything, which led her to believe that they were dealing with the former of her suspicions. An implacable fury began to take root in her belly. Addict or not, he killed an innocent boy and the extend of his punishment had been, at most, expulsion from the Order. Lost in thought and blinded by her own rage on his behalf, she did not think to stop Cole.

But Solas did. “Cole, stop.”

Ellana turned slowly to stare at Solas. He had murdered four mages for a similar crime and he sought to deny Cole that same chance at revenge? She shook her head rapidly. _No, no, he’s right. Cole is special. Murdering that man in revenge would twist him against his purpose; the very thing he feared the most._

The ex-Templar scrambled to his feet and tried to make a break for it. Cole slowly began to pursue him, but was halted by Varric. “Just take it easy, kid,” he said calmly.

Cole was becoming more and more distraught as all the memories began to flood back. “He killed me. He _killed_ me. That’s why it doesn’t work. He killed me, and I have to kill him back!”

Finally having gotten her wits about her again, Ellana spoke up. “Before anyone gets killed, I need to know what’s going on.”

Solas entreated him, “Cole, this man cannot have killed you. You are a spirit. You have not even possessed a body.”

“A broken body,” Cole replied, “Bloody, banged on the stone cell, guts gripping in the dark dank. A captured apostate. They threw him into the dungeon in the Spire at Val Royeaux. They forgot about him. He starved to death. I came through to help...and I couldn’t. So I became him. Cole.”

Varric shook his head sadly. “If Cole was an apostate, that’d make the guy we just saw a Templar. Must have been buying lyrium.”

Cole was shaking with rage. “Let me kill him. I need to...I need to.” He walked on a bit, then hesitated and lingered just out of earshot, waiting.

“Solas?” Ellana asked.

“We cannot let Cole kill the man,” he replied firmly.

Varric rolled his eyes. “I don’t think anyone was going to suggest that, Chuckles.”

Solas continued, “Cole is a spirit. The death of the real Cole wounded him, perverted him from his purpose. To regain that part of himself, he must forgive.”

“Come on!” Varric objected, “You don’t just forgive someone _killing_ you.”

“ _You_ don’t,” snapped Solas. “A spirit can.”

Ellana bit her lip and looked ahead to make sure Cole had not gone far. “Varric, talk to me.”

“The kid’s angry,” he answered. “He needs to work through it.”

“A spirit does not work through emotions,” Solas countered. “It embodies them.”

“But he isn’t a spirit, is he?” Varric asked. “He made himself human, and humans change. They get hurt, and they heal. He needs to work it out like a person.”

Solas was aghast. “You would alter the essence of what he is.”

“He did that _to himself_ when he left the Fade,” argued Varric. “I’m just helping him survive it.”

Ellana made up her mind. “Cole will never grow into a real person until he comes to terms with what happened.”

Solas’ eyes flashed, but he said nothing.

Varric nodded. “Leave it to me,” and walked over to Cole. “All right, kid. You want revenge? Come with me.”

~~~

Solas gave her a withering sidelong glare while they waited. “Do you really trust Varric with him?”

Ellana returned her gaze to the horizon. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"They could murder that Templar," he answered.

"Like you murdered those Mages?" Ellana asked. Solas turned his head towards her sharply, but she continued. "If you can't follow your own advice, perhaps you shouldn't give it."

"That was different!" Solas objected.

"Different in that you killed four people while Cole may only kill one?" Ellana snapped. "Both of you lost someone with whom you had a deep connection. But you're asking Cole to be the better person where you failed."

Solas growled. "He's not a person, he's a spirit!"

Ellana's eyes widened. "You! You were the one who taught me that spirits _were_ people and now you're changing your mind! Why? You can't stand the thought that Varric might be right? Solas..." She turned to him and laid her hand on his arm. He flinched, but didn't push her away. "We could be on the verge of something wonderful happening. A spirit becoming flesh by sheer force of will without needing to possess a body to do so. Spirits need no longer become demons or abominations when they cross the Veil. They can live their purest purposes in our world!" She stopped, eyes widening. "You're scared. Spirits are your companions and you are their link to the mortal world. If they no longer need you...you don't want to be alone. Solas, you don't have to be alone. I'll be there for you..."

Solas brushed her hand off of him. "Don't touch me. Your touch carries promises you will not keep."

"I never—"

"Do you think I don't know the significance of that bauble on your finger?" Solas' nostrils flared. "You even _smell_ different. He's marked you. You are _his_ now."

"I was _always_ his, Solas." Ellana said quietly. "I'm sorry if I made you believe otherwise."

"We're done here," Varric's voice rang out from behind them. "Let's go."

~~~

When they arrived back at Skyhold, Solas said to the others, "For all we know, the amulet will now never function. Cole remains vulnerable to binding."

"No, he isn't," Varric replied. "The amulet didn't work because he's too human, right? Maybe now the kid's also too human for that binding magic to work on him.”

Solas refused to look at him. “I hope you’re right.”

Cole came in through the door, gripping his stomach, still feeling sympathy pain for the real Cole’s suffering and death. “It still hurts. When do I stop hurting?”

Ellana smiled gently. “If you ever find the answer to that question, do let me know.”

Varric patted Cole on the arm. “C’mon kid. Let’s go for a walk. It’ll clear your head.”

Cole was silent for a while. “The Left Hand misses a friend with two different names. She’s hurting, sad, alone, but...everyone can see me now. They remember. How can I put honey in Leliana’s wine without her noticing?”

Varric smirked. “I can help with that.” He turned and walked out the door, Cole following him eagerly.

After the door shut, Solas turned to Ellana. “It is good that he is not entirely changed, however human he becomes.”

Ellana nodded silently, then walked off towards Cullen's office, leaving Solas alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I'm going to admit right now that I lifted the idea for the Sex cake from somewhere on Tumblr. If someone knows who it was, please leave a link in the comments and I will credit here.


	4. Something to Write Home About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that their wedding is on the horizon, Cullen and Ellana decide it is time to tell their families what is going on.

Cullen had already finished his letters to his older brother Fletcher and his younger sister Marta. They sat to the side on his desk, waiting to be picked up by Shapeley to go out by raven in the morning. There was just one more left.

  


Mia.

  


Hers were always the most difficult. She would pry, pry like a pearl hunter trying to force open an oyster. So, of course, he would always be as taciturn and evasive as possible. It was the little game they’d played since they were children; he made her work for it.  
  
He peered with chagrin at the blank parchment before him and roughly dragged his fingers through his hair. Maker’s breath, he was getting _married_. Though he was still waiting on sharing that particular announcement, he knew he had to give Mia a proper picture of his feelings for Ellana. He’d mentioned her before of course, but only as the Herald of Andraste, then the Lady Inquisitor, always keeping things formal and impersonal, or so he’d hoped. So to suddenly surprise her with something like “The Lady Inquisitor and I are lovers, and I took her on this very desk that I’m writing to you on” was not a viable option. He’d have to ease into it. In layers.  
  
With their parents gone, Mia had all but officially taken the place of their mother, and as such her standards would be high for Ellana. It had been so long since he’d written to her about something like this; the last time, more than ten years ago, he had hinted about Neria, but his fear of being discovered led him to be incredibly vague, and then of course he didn’t speak to anyone in his family for two years after Kinloch Hold. Even after Mia had found him, his communiques to her hid his heart. It was just as well. His loneliness and anger would only have worried her.

  


_Dear Mia,_

  


_You will recall that I have mentioned a lady of some important standing in my missives to you, however brief they may have been. To tell you truly, I avoided telling you more because I didn’t know where things were headed. Writing my feelings would have made them real, and, up until recently, I was unready to face them, much less share them.  
Her name is Ellana of Clan Lavellan. You may have heard of her…_

  


He crumpled up the paper and threw it into the corner of the room, only for Samahl to leap off the bookcase and dart after it.

  


_Writing made it real._ So, what did he wish to make real to her? He turned and looked up at the portrait he’d commissioned of Ellana.

  


She was wearing the lavender mage robes he’d given her back in Haven, and though the artist kept admonishing her to keep her expression neutral, the smile that sparkled in her eyes and teased at her lips was unmistakable. He’d been in the room the whole time with her and she’d told him that every time he looked at the painting he could know she was thinking of him, her love for him captured and crystallized for all time.

  


She’d been gone a week so far, off with Varric, Dorian and Bull on an attempt to make an alliance with the Avvar of the Frostback Basin, the only people in Thedas more barbaric than his or her own. In that sense, he supposed, she was in good company. She’d likely be able to relate to them better than she would had she had been some noblewoman from Ostwick.

  


_She was safe_ , he kept telling himself.

  


_Probably._

  


Him, not so much. His nightmares were more intense when she was gone, and his craving for lyrium was rearing its ugly head. So, after a nightmare of being crushed by blue chains, rendered helpless and unable to save Ellana from Samson, he'd elected to spend the rest of the night corresponding with his siblings.

  


What could he tell Mia? Each sibling had received different yet accurate information, since Cullen knew they'd get together and compare notes anyway. To Fletcher, he'd praised Ellana's grace and beauty, her wit, how she'd charmed the Orlesian nobility and won the Grand Game. Marta would receive word of her warm heart, her generosity of spirit, her unshakable integrity and her stubbornness in standing by what she believed was right. But even all that would not be enough to satisfy the eldest of their clan, he knew.

  


_Dear Mia,_

  


_Joining the Inquisition was the second greatest thing to ever happen to me for two reasons. Firstly, doing so gave me the courage to leave the Templars and put much pain from the past behind me. Second, and perhaps more importantly, it led me back to Ellana._

  


_You know of whom I speak. All of Thedas knows of whom I speak. But I knew her before all the titles; long before she had even told me her name, my heart knew her and claimed her, refusing to let go._

  


_There were complications. My being a Templar at the time, and she being a Dalish apostate meant that pursuing her was not an option, but Maker, I wanted to. To my detriment, I let her go. Left her. For years I thought I’d missed my chance, but in Haven, out of the darkness and ashes walked the light of my life, like something out of a myth or a dream._

  


_But she is **real**. She is here with me._

  


_Even from the beginning I was soothed by her presence, and when I first held her in my arms...it was...it felt like **coming home**. She felt like **home**. She **is** my home. It may seem strange to you, since she and I could not be more different, but she fills the cracks and gaps in me and I daresay I've done the same for her._

  


_She is mine and I am hers._

  


_We are not our titles to each other, and though she does take playful pleasure in calling me her Commander from time to time, I can be just myself with her. In turn, she is not her Mark or her Calling to me._

  


_She is simply my darling Ellana._

  


_We’re in love._

  


_I thought you would like to know. More to come, I promise._

  


_Your loving brother,_

  


_Cullen_

  


~~~

Ellana could not sleep.

Well, that wasn’t _quite_ true. She’d just woken up after retiring to her tent at an _obscenely_ early hour, before Dorian could even finish making supper. Now she felt achy all over and wired.

  


It wasn't the unfamiliar surroundings that bothered her, though the idea that the Avvar to the north of their camp could attack at any time certainly did not make for a soothing nap.

  


It wasn't the exciting prospect of the treehouses that would soon mark The Inquisition's forest camps, though Ellana did indeed look forward to them. It felt like it had been ages since she'd slept in the trees. She was additionally amused by the fact that Scout Harding expressed a fear of heights. Since Lace had taught Ellana to dance, she thought she'd return the favor by helping her conquer her anxiety. After she felt more rested, anyway.

_  
_

No, she _ached_ for Cullen. And _possibly_ her warm, soft, comfortable Orlesian bed. But mostly Cullen. _Physically_ ached. She was too embarrassed to admit to anyone but Dorian that ever since she and her Commander had started having sex, Ellana found herself... _craving_ him. Like a gluttonous child in a sweets shoppe, she could not get enough. Amongst other things, come to think of it. Like the Rosemary fried chicken he'd made for her the night before she'd set off for the Frostback Basin.

  


_Creators, just thinking about it makes my mouth water._  


  


She'd turned in early and had missed dinner altogether. Now she was wide awake and starving but even the idea of Dorian's stew made her nauseous. She couldn't go back to sleep as the ground felt too hard to her. She needed a distraction.  
  
Ellana looked at the ring on her hand. She should probably let her clan know the news, at the very least so their Keeper could make preparations to train Evariel to take her place as First. So, she dug around in her pack for some paper and a pen and began to write.

  


_Hahren,_

  


_It has been a few weeks since I've written you last and I hope this finds you well._

  


_This probably comes as no surprise to you based on my previous letters, but I have decided that I will not be returning to the Clan. This is not a decision that I have reached lightly. But the Inquisition has become my home and I wish to see the mission of its current incarnation through to the end. Also..._

  


Ellana bit her lip. It felt too formal and diplomatic for a letter to her grandmother. She smiled to herself. This was Josephine's influence no doubt. She crumpled up the first page and began again.

  


_Hahren,_

  


_I miss you and Evariel very much, but, as I'm sure you have anticipated, I will not be returning to the Clan. I suppose this makes him your First now. Hopefully, he's been working hard for you in my absence, so this reward will not come to him solely by default. The Inquisition has become my home, its members family to me as dear as kin._

  


_Beyond all that of course, is Cullen._

  


_Grandmother, he is more wonderful than I ever dreamed in my most feverish and unfledged imaginings after I met him in Kirkwall. Though he is a fierce warrior on the battlefield, he is gentle and playful and kind off of it, and brave, so brave, everywhere. He is unfailingly patient with my stubbornness, even when we disagree (he is stubborn as well, so I’m not putting him through anything he doesn’t give back). He is passionate and true, safe and solid, protecting and proud._

  


_Hahren, he wants to **marry** me!_

  


_When we set a date, I will let you know. With my being the Inquisitor and the Herald of Andraste, our wedding will likely be within the Chantry, but perhaps you would honor us and give us your blessing by performing a Dalish handfasting as well_?

  


_I hope all is well in Wycome. Tensions were high for a while there between our people and the Duke. Should trouble arise again, do not hesitate to contact me by raven._

  


_Ar lath ma, hahren. May Mythal bless you, and may the Dread Wolf never hear your steps._

  


_Ellana_


	5. Lies Black as Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackwall isn’t who he said he was. Hilarity does not ensue.

Ellana returned to Skyhold after two weeks amongst the Avvar, _to pick up supplies_ , she'd said. But, as she made a beeline for Cullen's office, Dorian and Bull smirked at each other. 

"Praise Andraste," murmured Dorian.

" _That_ should take her edge off," Bull added with a laugh. "Give them an hour and Cullen's going to make everything all right."

Sera approached them with a snort. "Try _two_ hours. Cully-Wully's got his _own_ demons to slay."

"Problems while we were cavorting amongst the filthy barbarians?" Dorian asked.

"Some of us are still having trouble...getting over...Adamant," Sera replied, scuffing the toe of her shoe in a circle on the ground. "If Inky ain't around, people come crying to him."

Bull shrugged. "Who better to help people through their shit with demons?" He looked up at Cullen's tower. "If I had to talk to anyone about that sort of thing, I'd go with someone who knows enough about demons to fear them. Asaaranda isn't afraid of _anything_ , and sometimes that fact makes it hard to feel understood."

Dorian smiled sardonically. "He's got a point."

~~~

Cullen’s breastplate fell to the floor with a loud THUNK. 

His men had already vacated the premises as soon as they heard the bells pealing that heralded the arrival of the Inquisitor. They knew what was expected of them and did not wait for orders. Cullen smirked as he removed more of his armor, his belly tightening with anticipation. Finally, the door opened and she stood before him, framed by the sunset behind her, looking like she was flame made flesh. 

Ellana shut the door and he fell to his knees before her. “I missed you,” he whispered between her legs as he pushed her skirt up and over her hips. He gasped in surprise when he found that she wasn’t wearing any smalls.

He chuckled. “Little demon,” he moaned, before hooking one leg over his shoulder, spreading her wide so he could dip his tongue into her wicked warmth.

Ellana giggled breathlessly as she tangled her fingers in Cullen’s hair. “And here...here I thought you’d be...disapPOINTED!”

Cullen laughed and bit the inside of her thigh. “No.”

Her walls were beginning to tighten more quickly than he was accustomed to. Perhaps she’d missed him more intensely than usual. Maybe he’d simply gotten better at pleasuring her. All the same, Cullen was surprised at how quickly and powerfully she came for him.

Ellana leaned her head back against the door and groaned, “Ugh, you’re _amazing_. I love you. How did I ever live without this?” Her words came out in a jumble, pushed together so that it all sounded like one very long word. She tousled his hair as he stood up. “Why can’t I take you with me everywhere?” Her eyebrows came together in a little frown, as if she was already anticipating their inevitable separation.

“Maybe someday,” he sighed as he grabbed her by the hips, spun her around and walked her backwards towards his desk.

~~~

Ellana nestled into Cullen’s arms happily. “I know you no longer live here, but I’m beginning to think that I should keep a spare change of clothes here at all times. My things always either end up torn, broken, or missing.”

“Missing?” Cullen asked.

She nodded. “I _still_ l can’t find the red silk smalls Josephine got me from Antiva.”

“Mmm,” Cullen hummed noncommittally.

Ellana snuggled closer. “I _really_ liked those.”

Cullen did too. Which was probably why he’d been keeping them in the locked middle left drawer of his desk for the last six weeks. He’d have to sneak them back to her room at some point so she could wear them again though.

Cullen traced Ellana's cheekbone with his fingertip and deftly changed the subject. “I'm concerned about Blackwall,” he whispered. “He hasn't been himself since Adamant.” not only was it true, but the last subject Ellana’s mind would drift to after talking about the Warden would be her smalls. It was a win-win.

She sighed. “Still?” Ellana leaned over until she was straddling him, then bent so she could bite the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “He wasn’t even there.”

“True, but he _did_ lose comrades,” Cullen answered.

“Did he?” Ellana asked sharply. “The man’s a lone wolf. I don’t think he’s even been to Weisshaupt.”

Cullen sat up slightly and rested on his forearms. “Why should _that_ make any difference?”

Ellana bit her bottom lip. “I asked Alistair when he was here for the peace talks. Not only did he confirm that every Grey Warden has spent time at Weisshaupt, but he gave me a detailed description of the place.” She raised her eyebrow at Cullen. “Blackwall knew enough to know about Weisshaupt, but his description was... _vague_.”

Cullen shrugged. “Well, regardless of whether or not he’s gone through the proper rites of passage, he’s still grieving. It would probably mean a lot to him if you stopped by the stables for a chat.” He smirked. “I promise to make it up to you if you do.” He pulled her closer and suckled her collarbone.

Ellana closed her eyes in bliss. “And you _are_ a man of your word—”

~~~

Adamant had been _nothing_ but trouble. She was glad that the Chargers leveled the place to the ground. Six weeks on, Ellana was still feeling the aftershocks. It seemed that no one was happy about her decisions. Cassandra, Cole, Varric, Solas, and Vivienne were all unhappy that she’d conscripted the Wardens. As if she had much of a choice. If another blight came to Southern Thedas, who would the people blame? The Inquisition first, and likely the Dalish second. _No thank you_.

Solas, Blackwall, Cole, Dorian, and the Free Mages were upset that she’d sentenced Erimond to Tranquility. The man had his hands all over the assassination of the Divine by aiding Corypheus in his corruption of the Warden mages, ultimately leading to the deaths of thousands, and _she_ was somehow a bad person for delivering the worst possible punishment she could think of. Truth be told, the only thing she really regretted was that she couldn’t restore him and then tranquilize him again without there being a huge controversy breaking out over the reveal that Tranquility could be reversed. She and Cassandra were still hashing out the details of when to announce that particular piece of information. It was Cullen who was able to smooth the matter out, and without employing violence. He intimated, however, that had she not been a mage herself, the Free Mages might not have been so forgiving.

What little time she’d been spending with Solas was marked with more quarrels than teaching. He was disappointed in her for what he deemed as “hasty and emotional” decision-making, his code for "thinking too much like a human." While she agreed with him that the Wardens were reckless, she was angered by his passivity in the face of disaster. "...action is not inherently better than inaction," Solas had said in an uncharacteristic fury. When she then asked him, “What should the Wardens do during a Blight? Sit around with their thumbs up their arses and hope the darkspawn will get bored and leave? What did you do during the Blight, since you don’t seem to think it’s so bad?” He did not answer her and simply stalked off.

So, as she approached Blackwall, who was in front of the stables splitting wood, she felt a sense of dread wash over her.. But this was her job, and it wasn’t like she didn’t care. She was just...exhausted.

"Someone I knew once described Adamant to me,” Blackwall said to her as he saw her approach. “ _Adamant is, and always will be the Order_ , he said. A guardian on the edge of the abyss. The lone soul that stares into oblivion and doesn't waver. That's what Warden-Commander Clarel tried to be, what they _all_ tried to be. I'm told her Wardens never wavered. They went to their deaths willingly. They died for...us...and Corypheus twisted their sacrifice to make it his own!"

She bit her tongue. _Yes, they never wavered in murdering their fellow Wardens and the Divine. How nice. No, no, no._ Cullen’s words to her as he sent her off rang through her mind. “There is plenty of time for you to be right, but now is not that time. Now is the time for you to be kind.”

"And _that's_ why he has to die," replied Ellana. Amongst other reasons, she added in her mind. She felt in her heart that Clarel's intent was not _entirely_ noble, and there was _still_ the matter of murdering the Divine and starting this whole mess that she was now tasked with cleaning up. But Cullen was right. Blackwall _was_ grieving. There would be another time for an ethical debate.

"You'll get no argument from me. There's no one to blame but Corypheus. Even Clarel's intentions were righteous. Her desire to protect was _so_ great, it led her astray. It's not right; to want to do good, to _be_ good, and to have that turned against you."

Ellana failed to see how Clarel’s launching a preemptive strike against the remaining sleeping Old Gods was protecting anyone, even under the best of circumstances, that is to say, if an ancient Darkspawn Magister and his Tevinter lackies weren’t secretly pulling the strings. She took a deep breath and uttered advice her grandmother had given to her. “At the end of the day, I guess all we can do is try, and hope for the best.”

Blackwall seemed to ponder for a moment, then nodded decisively. "You're right. What matters is that we never give up. Clarel made mistakes, but she was a great woman, and she _died_ a great woman. It's not the armor, or the trappings of the Order. It's not the...Joining. At the heart of it, all a Warden is, is a promise: to protect others, even at the cost of your own life."

~~~

Later that evening, when Cullen joined her in bed, Ellana turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “You owe me, Rutherford.”

“It must have been really bad, if you’re using my last name,” he said with a smirk. He lifted her gently around her waist and sat her on his lap. 

“It was,” she replied, closing her eyes while Cullen unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing. He was amused and flattered that she loved to wear his shirts to bed so much, when she wore anything at all. After he got it completely open, he did a double take. 

He had sisters. He knew enough not to ever comment on a woman’s weight. And it wasn’t that Ellana was getting fat, but...she was...more _substantial_ , less slight. When he began to knead her breasts, she gasped and bit her lip.

“Is this all right?” he asked tentatively.

She nodded. "Just sensitive I guess. Go on."

Cullen shrugged, smiled, and took a pert nipple into his mouth. He wasn’t going to complain. The orgasm that quickly ripped through her did not hinder her desire for more and he was all too happy to oblige.

~~~

Two days later, Ellana still remained at Skyhold due to feeling too ill to travel. Blackwall was still keeping to himself. It had gotten to the point where Sera was concerned about his antisocial behavior, and interceded on his behalf, asking Ellana to speak to him again. She suspected that Blackwall would speak to no one else. So, Ellana reluctantly dragged herself out of bed that evening to pay the Warden another visit.

When she arrived at the stables, Blackwall was staring at the fire. He visibly brightened when he saw her, if one could call it that, much like black storm clouds that fade to grey, but still hover oppressively, a portent that a heavy rain was going to fall.

"Want a drink?" He asked, "I've a hankering for company."

It was not exactly what she'd had in mind.

The mood was oppressively grim. Blackwall made brief small talk as he downed ale after ale. As he began to down his third, Ellana looked up and saw Dorian in the doorway of the Herald's Rest. Much like twins, they had developed a secret language between the two of them, in their case entirely consisting of hand gestures. She made a brief signal to him. "You don't want this."

Dorian nodded, then signaled a question to her. "Cullen?"

She nodded, then turned her attention to Blackwall while Dorian took off. Eventually, he launched into what she guessed had been the true motivation behind his invitation. But he had to get drunk enough first to go through with it. That was rarely, if ever, a good sign.

"When I was a boy, there were these urchins who roamed the streets near my father's house. One day they found a dog. A wretched little thing. It came to them for food. They caught it, tied a rope around its neck...and strung it up." Blackwall's voice caught, and he paused before turning to her and asking, "Do you know what I did?"

Ellana answered hesitantly. "You stopped them, cut the dog down." It was what she'd hoped he did, anyway...

He looked at her sadly. "I did _nothing_ , not a _damn_ thing. It was _crying_. I saw the kicking legs, the neck straining and twisting. And I turned around, went inside, and closed the door. I could have told my father, or altered someone. I didn't. I just pretended it wasn't happening."

Ellana felt sick. She didn’t know if it was her nerves or something she had eaten. Trying to put her hurting friend first, she swallowed hard, then laid a gentle, absolving hand on his shoulder. “You said you were just a boy!”

Blackwall snapped, “I was old enough to know the dog was suffering and that it was wrong. I may as well have tied the noose myself.” He grew pensive for a moment. “We _could_ make the world better. It's just easier to shut our eyes.”

That they could agree on, and she was doing her best to do so. "Nothing worth doing is easy." Even though she was trying to offer comfort and encouragement, she couldn’t help feeling that her words rang hollow. 

Blackwall laughed darkly. "Look at you! _You_ would have done the right thing. We're lucky there are people like _you_ in the world."

The words stung. She wasn't sure whether he was being sincere or whether he was mocking her. Given his state, either was entirely possible. Either way, she knew that whatever she had been trying to do, it wasn’t working. Blackwall was just sinking further and further into despair...

“ _There_ you are!” Cullen exclaimed as he walked inside. “It’s past your bedtime, darling.” He winked at her, then clapped Blackwall on the shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind me borrowing the Inquisitor. She’s been a bit under the weather lately and she needs her rest.” He bent and kissed the corner of her mouth before turning back to the Warden. “Besides, there’s someone who wants to talk to you.” 

They all turned and saw Josephine crooking a finger at Blackwall. He finished his drink, then muttered to Ellana, “There's always some dog out there, some fucking mongrel that doesn't know how to stay away.”

“Veins te coucher, mon chaton!” Cullen said as he scooped her up into his arms. 

Ellana giggled and kissed him on the cheek before resting her head against his chest. She waited until Blackwall was out of earshot, then whispered to him, “Thank the Creators. You arrived just in time!”

“Don't thank me, thank Dorian. He came to fetch me, after all.” Cullen leaned down slightly and kissed her on the forehead. “Sorry I took so long, I...had to get dressed. Again.”

Ellana looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye. “Were you... _naked_?”

He chuckled and nipped at her ear. “I was in bed and waiting for you, what do you think?”

“Ooh!” Ellana cooed excitedly.

“But...now that the surprise is spoiled," Cullen continued with a sigh, “I guess our fun will have to wait for another ti—”

Ellana pulled him down for a searing kiss.

~~~

She awoke quite early the following morning, nauseous. Convinced that she had caught some sort of virus, Ellana headed to the stables so she could check on Blackwall and see if he’d contracted it as well. At the very least, she figured that he may be in need of a hangover cure, what with the way he’d been drinking the night before. 

Much to her chagrin, she found that he was gone, having disappeared sometime during the night. Unfortunately, she had to discover this news alongside a sleepy and disheveled Josephine, whom she’d stumbled upon naked and alone in the stable loft. Given the circumstances, Ellana would not have blamed the ambassador for displaying hysterics, but on the contrary, she adopted an eerie calm. 

Ellana immediately called an emergency meeting in the War Room. Leliana was possessed by a cold fury. “I will defer to you, Inquisitor, as to what we should do with him. I will not kill him without your say so.”

Josephine gasped. “Oh, Leliana! _Please_ don’t kill him.” She burst into tears and the Spymaster enveloped her in a protective embrace. 

Leliana sighed. “I promise.” She looked at Ellana over Josephine's head and mouthed, “Make him hurt.”

There was a knock at the door. It was Scout Harding, clutching a crumpled note in her hand. “Sister Leliana!” she exclaimed, “This was all we could find.” She handed the paper over to the Spymaster. “Have you seen this?” she asked. 

Leliana took the memo and scanned it quickly. “Bastard,” she spat. “He must have stolen this before I could get to it. I don’t know _how_ , but he did.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow. “He’s not exactly the stealthy type.”

Leliana nodded. “Yes, but believe it or not, I’d rather believe he somehow took it himself rather than have to deal with a traitor, or at the very least, someone with conflicting loyalties.”

“But what does the missive say, Leliana?” Josephine asked plaintively.

Leliana’s mouth formed a thin, hard line before she obliged her. She read aloud, “Lieutenant Cyril Mornay, one of the soldiers responsible for the Callier Massacre of 9:37, was captured in Lydes. Like the others who were arrested for their involvement, Mornay insists that he did not know who he was assassinating, and that he was just following the orders of his Captain. This Captain, Thom Rainier, is still at large. Mornay is to be executed within the week at Val Royeaux.”

Ellana looked at Cullen. “I have an idea. We still have to make a public announcement about our engagement, right?”

Cullen nodded, while simultaneously shooting her a dubious look. 

“You and I are going to Val Royeaux. Perhaps we can find Blackwall there,” Ellana continued.

“I’m sending a retinue of my people with you, just in case,” said Leliana. She looked at both of them. “Go pack. I’ll have a carriage ready for you within the hour.”

“Meanwhile,” Cullen added, “if you could dig up as much as possible about the Callier Massacre, I would greatly appreciate it.”

The Spymaster nodded. “Consider it done.”

~~~

Cullen, Ellana, Cassandra, Dorian, and Varric entered Val Royaux after traveling for two days straight. They were exhausted, and hoped against hope that they had arrived before Blackwall could do anything foolhardy.

When they arrived in the heart of the city, the public theatre of an execution was underway.

“Cyril Mornay,” exclaimed the bailiff, “for your crimes against the Empire of Orlais...for the murders of General Vincent Callier, Lady Lorette Callier, their four children, and their retainers...you are sentenced to be hanged from the neck until dead.”

“Maker’s Breath,” gasped Cullen. “What sort of _monster_ —”

The jeering crowd almost drowned out the question that followed. “Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

Lieutenant Mornay said nothing, and just knelt there, waiting for death.

“Very well,” answered the bailiff, and he signaled the executioner to ready the noose. “Proceed.”

The noose was hung loosely around Mornay’s neck, and Ellana was about to turn away, when she heard a familiar voice ring through the crowd. “Stop!”

It was Blackwall. He strode up to the gallows as the bailiff introduced him to the crowd as a Grey Warden. The people shouted in disapproval. Whenever a Grey Warden showed up at an execution, conscription almost always followed. They did not wanted to be cheated out of their justice. 

Blackwall addressed the crowd with authority and they fell silent. “This man is innocent of the crimes laid before him. Orders were given, and he followed them like any good soldier.”

Ellana grimaced. This was one of many points she and Blackwall most emphatically did not see eye to eye on. She believed that a man has an individual responsibility to do good and to question evil; orders excuse nothing. 

He continued, “He should not die for that mistake!”

The bailiff accosted him impatiently. “Then find me the man who gave the order.”

Ellana felt Cullen’s hand close over her shoulder tightly, and she did not have to ask why. “Blackwall!” she called out warningly.

He peered through the crowd and, finding her, spoke. “No, I am not Blackwall. I never was Blackwall. Warden Blackwall is dead, and has been for years. I assumed his name, like a coward, from who I really am.”

 _He must have changed over the years_. Mornay finally recognized him. “You, after all this time...”

“It’s over,” Not-Blackwall said to Mornay. “I’m done hiding. I gave the order. The crime is mine. I am Thom Rainier.”

The crowd erupted into confused yelps as Rainier and Mornay were led away.

Cullen whispered to Ellana, "I'll talk to the bailiff, find out where he's being held."

As her fiancé walked off towards the gallows, Ellana turned to the others, her face pale. Her knees trembled and gave way, but Dorian caught her before she could fall to the ground. "Quite a shock, my love, but he's not worth injuring yourself over."

Cassandra but her lip. "This is going to do no small amount of harm to the Inquisition."

"We didn't know we were harboring a murderer—" Varric began.

"Rainier is not your average, garden-variety murderer, or many more of us would be in custody," replied Dorian. "He knowingly committed treason...if he's not lying about that too."

Cullen soon returned. "He's not far." He looked Ellana over and bit his lip, worried. "Can you walk, darling?"

She nodded slowly and took his arm. "I wouldn't be much of an Inquisitor if I had to be carried about like a lame child by my Commander, would I?"

"Oh, I don't know," Cullen answered, patting her arm affectionately. "It certainly wouldn't be the first time."

~~~

As Ellana walked down the dank corridor of the prison, her sweet soprano rang against the stones, singing a song that she’d learned from listening to Cole. “Mockingbird, mockingbird, quiet and still, what do you see from the top of that hill? Can you see up? Can you see down?”

She arrived at Rainier’s cell. He looked at the wall, not at her, and said in a resigned voice, “Stop.”

“Can you see the dead things all about town?” she continued.

“Please,” said Rainier.

She ignored him and began again. “Mockingbird, mockingbird, quiet and still, what do you see—”

"Ellana—"

“No,” she spat. “You don’t get to use my name, you lying bastard." She took her staff from her back and struck the iron bars, causing it to clang harshly. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

Rainier turned to face her sharply, looking for all the world like a wounded Mabari. 

Ellana continued, trembling with rage. "Now I know why you were so eager to absolve the Wardens, why you praised them for following orders. Orders do not excuse a man for doing evil! If you are commanded to do something horrible, YOU SAY NO."

"You think it's _so_ simple!" Rainier objected.

"Yes," she answered firmly. "I do. Everything else is just making excuses." Ellana sat opposite him and buried her head in her hands. "You committed treason against our largest military ally. At the very least, don't you think that would have been something we needed to know? I mean, thank the Creators that I didn't ask you to come to Halamshiral! Someone may have recognized you, then everything the Inquisition was working towards? Gone. Celene would have been assassinated and there would have been nothing to stop Corypheus from tearing southern Thedas apart. BECAUSE OF YOU AND YOUR LIES."

"THEN WHY DONT YOU LET ME DIE, IF THAT'S THE WAY YOU FEEL ABOUT IT?" Rainier roared.

"MAYBE I WILL!" Ellana screamed. Cullen, who had started running down the corridor towards Rainier's cell as soon as Ellana started yelling the first time, grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her away. 

"No, Ellana!" He pleaded, "Be calm, he's not worth it."

"That's right," Rainier groused. "Muzzle your woman."

Cullen spun to face Rainier, and with no further warning, his fist bolted between the bars and struck him in the eye sending him careening towards the corner of his cell. Then he took Ellana by the hand and lead her toward the exit.

"I thought you said to be calm!" Ellana objected.

"I _am_ calm," he replied.

~~~

The execution was not to take place until he end of the week. They would need to return to Skyhold later that night, but in the meantime, the representatives of the Inqusition dined at a nearby outdoor cafe. As they savored a bottle of wine and a cheese plate together, Cullen chuckled. "Alistair should come here sometime. He might change his mind about Orlesian culture."

Dorian sipped his wine. "Man cannot live by cheese alone."

Cullen snorted. "You clearly haven't spent enough time with the King of Ferelden."

Varric chuckled. "He owes me a favor. Maybe he can join us for a game of Wicked Grace."

"After we redecorate Skyhold perhaps," replied Ellana. "I'm going to mount Corypheus' head on a pike and stick it on the wall."

"I like the way you think," Cassandra said, raising her glass.

Cullen followed suit. "To heads on pikes."

They all clinked their glasses together.

~~~

That evening, Cullen and Ellana made their wedding announcement in the heart of Val Royeaux. They would marry in a month at the Chantry there with much pomp and to-do. All sorts of foreign dignitaries would be present. It was everything Cullen could possibly hate, but none of it mattered. The only thing he cared about was that he was marrying Ellana, and all of Thedas would know that she belonged to him alone.

~~~

When they arrived back at Skyhold, Ellana's advisors were able to present her with options. Cullen offered to storm the prison.

"Um, _no_."

"I didn't say it was a _good_ idea," Cullen admitted.

"Cullen, do any of your solutions ever _not_ involve violence?" Ellana asked.

"Some involve alcohol," he offered with a shrug.

Josephine spoke up. "Celene owes us. It will be unpopular, but we could get a pardon for Black—I mean, Rainier."

Ellana shook her head vehemently. "I'm not burning favors with the Crown over that bastard. No offense meant, Josie."

"None taken."

Leliana came forwards, laying her hands gently on Josephine's shoulders. "I have a plan."

Ellana raised an eyebrow at her. "How much of a plan are we talking? We just got back! You can't have had that much time to formulate a decent stratagem."

"Have I _ever_ steered you wrong?" Leliana asked with a smirk. "Listen..."

~~~

Within three days, Thom Rainier was in Inquisition custody with the Orlesians none the wiser. He stood before the Inquisitor's throne. Josephine addressed the court, a slight hitch to her voice the only outward sign of her broken heart. "For judgement this day, Inquisitor...I must present Captain Thom Rainier, formerly known to us as Warden Blackwall. His crimes...well, you are aware of his crimes. It was no small expense to bring him here, but the decision of what to do with him is now yours." She swiftly exited the court, either unwilling or unable to bear being near him again.

Rainier said nothing, and just stared at Ellana. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Not even a word of thanks? And people think _I'm_ the barbarian."

"I don't know if I _can_ thank you," Rainier glowered. "I know you put another man in my place. Haven't enough died for me?"

"I really think you've lost the right to judge anyone," Ellana snapped.

"There's enough evil in the world because of me," he replied. "I accepted my punishment. I was ready for all this to end! Why would you stop it? What becomes of me now?"

"Blackwall intended you join the Wardens," she answered. "I will let them decide your fate. Effective now. Pack your bags, Rainier. You're leaving for Weisshaupt forthwith."

Rainier blinked, then bowed slightly. "As you command."

"If you die serving there, so be it," she continued. "Either way, you won't be my problem any longer."

And with that, Ellana waved him off. Thom Rainier left the courtroom, and the Inquisition, forever.


	6. Welcome to the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana meets Mia, Cullen’s formidable older sister, under odd circumstances while Cullen goes to Wycome to protect Clan Lavellan.

“Darling, you should talk to the healer. I’m worried about you,” said Cullen, tenderly smoothing Ellana’s hair back as she knelt, whimpering, before the privy.

“That woman is a butcher,” Ellana sputtered as she slowly got to her feet. and started shuffling back to bed. “I’d sooner send Samson to her than go myself.”

“She came highly recommended,” he answered, pulling the sheets and blankets back.

“From where? She never met a body part she didn’t want to slice into,” she snapped as she climbed into bed. “It will go away on its own, vhenan. Any day now.”

Cullen tucked her under the covers and ran his fingers through his hair. “Ellana...this isn’t a virus. I would think I would have caught it by now. What if that red lyrium infection came back? You almost died last time!”

“Cullen…” Ellana sighed.

“Please, Ellana,” he said as he knelt beside the bed and took her hand in his. “I can’t lose you. I don’t think I could bear it.”

She sighed. “All right, I’ll to talk to Anders while you’re away, I promise.”

“And no dragon killing,” he said with a wink. “Try to restrain yourself.”

As Cullen reached the top of the stairs, Ellana called out to him. “Cullen...if you see Keeper Deshanna…”

Cullen clasped his hand over his heart. “I will. Sleep tight, Sugar Lips. I should be back in a week.”

~~~

The bells were striking nine when the Tall Woman's boots hit the stone floor of Ellana's balcony. She leaned against the wall and peered inside. _No security? Leliana must be slipping. And where is Cullen? The report said they were sleeping together...but there she iss, the Lady Inquisitor herself, fast asleep in her ostentatious Orlesian bed. Alone._

The Tall Woman tiptoed inside and saw the chess table that sat just to the side of the balcony. _They had been in the middle of a game when he’d left._ She examined the board closely. _Cullen had taken the black pieces. It looks like he was using the Knight’s Gambit, but somewhere around the third move in, he moved the wrong piece._

_He was letting her win._

She snorted softly, then covered her mouth, eyes flicking towards the Inquisitor's bed.

_Still asleep._

The Tall Woman contemplated her approach. _From the side_? _Oh, that would be no fun. Footboard it would have to be, then._ Graceful as a cat, she leapt straight up and balanced on the footboard of the Orlesian bed. _Nobody makes beds like Orlesians; they were created to withstand all sorts of carnal acrobatics-related wear-and-tear._ She rocked in place a bit till she'd gained a comfortable balance and gazed over to see a pair of keen violet slits staring back at her.

"Who are you?" The Inquisitor whispered hoarsely. There was a tall, lean, hooded woman in black crouched before her, balancing on her footboard.

The Tall Woman smirked. "Guess."

The Inquisitor sat up and raised her eyebrow, pulling the sheets and blankets almost up to her neck. "You're from Ferelden, _that_ much is certain."

"It doesn't take a genius to figure that out," answered the Tall Woman. "But you are correct."

"I'm just getting started," said the Inquisitor. "I _did_ just wake up, after all. Give me time."

The Tall Woman rocked on her heels. "Fair enough." She smirked. "Go on, Inquisitor."

"You're not here to kill me or you would have by now," the Inquisitor continued.

The Tall Woman rolled her eyes.

The Inquisitor sighed. "You have a tremendous sense of balance and you got here without Leliana's people eviscerating you, so you're used to getting in and out of places undetected by professionals." She stretched, then pointed at her. "You're a spy for Ferelden." She bit her lip. "But Alistair and Cullen are _so_ close! He'd tell him _anything_ he wanted to know. The King didn't need to send a spy."

The Tall Woman tilted her head. "Clever girl. I'm not here on the King's business, I'm here on _family_ business." She pulled her hood back to reveal first a pair of deep set, amber eyes, followed by wavy golden hair that was pulled into an elegant bun. "My brother has good taste. And he must _really_ love you. He's letting you win at chess." She extended her hand. "Mia Rutherford. Ferelden Secret Service."

Ellana leapt up and threw the covers off. "I don't shake hands with family"

"Neither do I," Mia laughed, as she grabbed Ellana by the wrist and pulled her to her feet as she deftly stepped down, then wrapped her in a bear hug.

"Oof!" Ellana grunted, as she realized that she probably should not have gotten up so fast.

Mia pulled back, a look of concern on her face. "Sugar, are you all right?"

"Yes," Ellana said. "Wait. _No_!" She wiggled free. "Excuse me!" She covered her mouth and ran to the privy. She just made and vomited into the bowl before moaning miserably.

Mia followed her into the room. "Are you ill?"

"It certainly _appears_ that way," Ellana replied when she was done retching.

"Have you seen a healer?" Mia asked.

Ellana slowly turned and looked over her shoulder. "No."

“Well, don’t you think you should?” Mia needled. “Unless of course you _enjoy_ vomiting, that is.”

“Blast!” Ellana growled, getting to her feet and wiping her mouth. “I can’t fight both of you.”

~~~

The demand for Anders’ services had become such that he no longer had to operate out of the room that he and his daughter Mirai lived in. Now his clinic occupied a large room inside one of the gate towers. Though there was a wait to see him, no one hesitated to give up their place for the Inquisitor to be attended to.

Mia brought Ellana behind the curtain and helped her undress, lie down, and drape herself properly. Anders came in soon after and cleaned his hands in a wash basin before speaking to her. “Inquisitor. It’s an honor—”

“You don’t have to lie for her benefit, Anders,” Ellana groaned, rolling her eyes. “Just...tell me what’s going on.”

He snorted. “Fine. You first.”

“I’ve been nauseous for the past two weeks. Sore—” she began.

“Sore where?” Anders asked.

Ellana blushed. “My...breasts. Mostly.”

“I see,” he replied, writing things down on his clipboard, “Continue.”

“I’ve been getting cramps in my lower back, I’m hungry at odd hours of the day for strange things, I’ve been what Dorian and Bull would call ‘moody’, and I—” Ellana gulped and looked down at her lap. “This is embarrassing.”

Anders’ expression was serious, but for a slight twinkle in his eye. “Inquisitor Lavellan, do you want to get to the bottom of this mysterious ailment or not?”

Ellana rolled her eyes. “I— _of course_ I do!”

“Then I’m afraid you’re going to have to be prepared to divulge some embarrassing information,” he replied.

Ellana let out a noise of disgust that was worthy of Cassandra. “I want to have sex all the time. I mean ALL THE TIME. There. Happy?”

“I’m sure _Cullen_ is,” he said with a snort.

“He is indeed,” she answered with a blissful look on her face, forgetting that Cullen’s sister was still in the room with them. “That man can go all night long. Templar stamina is a _wonderful_ —”

Mia cleared her throat. “Maker’s Breath, I do _not_ need to hear about what a vigorous lover my brother is— _ugh_!” She shook her hands and made unsubtle gagging noises.

“Can we get _on_ with the examination? There are people waiting.” Anders turned to Ellana. “Have you urinated today?”

Ellana gave him a strange look. “...yes?”

“Right,” replied Anders. “I apologize in advance for my cold hands.”

“What are you— _eek_!” Ellana yelped after Anders reached between her legs with his fingers.

“Just relax,” Anders said soothingly. “I’m going to palpate your womb, so hold still.”

“Take my hand, Sugar,” offered Mia. “It will make it easier.”

Anders placed his other hand on Ellana’s tummy and felt around a bit whilst humming a sort of tuneless melody. After a short while, he removed his hands, turned, and washed them in the wash basin.

Then, he spun around to face the women with a smirk. “Inquisitor Lavellan, you’re _pregnant_.”

~~~

“He _should_ be here. He should have heard first, not me,” Mia said, shaking her head as they left Anders’ clinic. Cole approached them cautiously.

Cole whispered, “Pawn to D5, Castle to E4, Pawn to C3, Knight to H3, Chancellor takes the Queen...I _can’t_ believe it. Can’t believe—”

Mia drew her daggers lightning quick. “Who _are_ you and _how_ did you get in my head?”

“Oh, Mia! That’s Cole,” Ellana began.

“I’m a spirit— _was_ a spirit, now I’m a person...thanks to Varric...and the Stormbringer,” added Cole, pointing to Ellana for clarification.

Mia raised her eyebrow curiously. “A spirit? Or a _demon_?”

“If your _brother_ has accepted me as a person, then is it not too much to hope that you will as well?” asked Cole in response. Not waiting for an answer, he turned to Ellana, tentatively took her hands in his, and, after looking to her for approval of this gesture, said, “I hope she brings you and Cullen much happiness.”

“Who?” asked Ellana.

“Your babe,” he answered, pointing at her belly. “It’s a girl.”

Ellana stared at Cole. He slowly smiled at her in return. She narrowed her eyes.“How long have you _known_?”

“Since you conceived,” Cole answered. “You look... _different_ , smell different, feel different. I had to look at you again to make sure it was _really_ you.”

~~~

Mia shook her head as she reached across the table and smoothed Ellana’s hair behind her ear. “Cullen should be here. He _needs_ to know. Where is he, anyway?”

“Off saving my people from a mob of bloodthirsty shemlen,” Ellana said lackadaisically. “He didn’t have to go himself, but he thought it would... _ingratiate_ himself to my clan.” She leaned forward and whispered. “They can be a bit prickly, especially towards humans, and that goes _double_ for Templars.”

“But Cullen left the Templars,” Mia objected. She leaned forward and scooped some egg into her mouth.

“That’s hardly more than a technicality to them. Once a Templar, always a Templar,” Ellana said with a shrug. “But we also have _history_ , and that _complicates_ things for them.”

Mia sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. She squinted at Ellana, not because she was suspicious, though she was almost always suspicious, but because the dappled sunlight of the garden was in her eyes. “What _kind_ of history?”

“He saved us. My clan, he—saved us from blood mages,” Ellana answered quietly. “And then, well, we split up. He— _left_.” She swirled her tea and looked up at Mia. “Much to his regret. And mine.”

Mia chuckled. “You don’t come off as the sort of woman that takes ‘no’ for an answer. Really, you can’t, where Cullen is concerned. You have to be as stubborn as he is, perhaps even _more_ so.”

Ellana sighed. “My clan judged my feelings for him to be inappropriate, and informed me that when I got older I would better understand why they were forbidding any further involvement, despite the fact that he had _just_ saved their skins. When I pressed the issue, I was given an ultimatum: my grandmother was to move the clan from the outskirts of Kirkwall to Wycome. I could go with them…” she sipped her tea, “or I could stay in Kirkwall, moon over a man who claimed at the time to want nothing more to do with me, possibly get seized by the Templars in the process, and get thrown into the Circle of Magi at the mercy of Knight-Commander Meredith.”

Mia took a bite of her pancakes. “Doesn’t sound like a difficult choice when you put it _that_ way.”

“It was more difficult than it sounds,” Ellana answered, before scooping some porridge into her mouth.

~~~

Commander Cullen Rutherford, a segment of the Inquisition forces led by Lieutenant Rozellene Chambreterre, and the Chargers arrived in Wycome within the week and chaos exploded soon after, or it _would_ have, had Lady Guinevere’s intel not been rock solid. His forces reached the city just before the army of Marchers were set to wreak genocidal havoc in so-called revenge for the death of the Duke. Understandably, they stood down when they saw the Inquisition banners.

Lady Guinevere’s tongue was almost as talented as Josephine’s. She managed to prove to the Marchers that the Duke had been poisoning their fellow humans with red lyrium and had therefore committed treason, amongst other horrific crimes. The people of Wycome had a radical change of heart, and Cullen Stanton Rutherford was dismayed to find that he would not have to crush anything into submission for his Lady Fair. A _little_.

However, his excursion _did_ give him the opportunity to meet Keeper Deshanna, who recognized him on sight.

“The Lion of my dream!” she said with a smile, holding out her hand in greeting. “It is good to finally meet you face to face.”

Cullen tilted his head to the side as he took her hand in return, a little confused. “I beg your pardon, Keeper Deshanna, but—”

She smiled at him. Her smile was so like Ellana’s that his heart ached a little to see it. “Before I sent Ellana to the Conclave, I had a dream. For _three_ days, I dreamt. Part of that dream involved Ellana riding away from our clan on the back of a lion. She looked happy, though, so I took that as a good sign.”

Cullen smiled his crooked smile at Deshanna and offered her his arm. “Normally, I would think that a lion making off with your granddaughter might be cause for alarm.”

She chuckled and slid her arm in his as they began to stroll through the city. “There was nothing whatsoever normal about that dream. Twas from the Dread Wolf. He _chose_ her.”

“Chose Ellana?” Cullen asked. “For what?”

“To fix the world,” Deshanna replied.

~~~

“One day I had this terrible premonition,” Ellana began. “I awoke to the sound of a wolf, howling in the distance. No one else could hear it but me. The sound was coming from the direction of Kirkwall. So, I did what seemed to be the most rational thing at the time. I stole one of the harts and rode off. All day, all night.” She paused and laid a reassuring hand on Mia’s arm. “Harts are very hardy, so don’t worry about me riding her to death. I didn’t. But...I got to the outskirts of Kirkwall just as night fell. Then the Chantry exploded. I saw it with my own eyes.”

Ellana closed her eyes tight as she recalled the memory. “Varric and I wrote each other after Cullen broke things off. He told me very little of your brother, but did manage to tell me that he was at the Chantry almost every night of the week.”

Mia smiled. “Choir practice.”

Ellana nodded. “I know that _now_. All the same, I thought he was...dead. For months, there was no response from Varric, either. Understandable, in retrospect, but you can imagine how I must have felt.”

~~~

Cullen snorted with amusement. “Our people think she was chosen, too. By Andraste.”

Deshanna shrugged. “Could be. Andraste existed. We do not deny that. She freed us from slavery...before her followers reneged on her promise to us to let the People live in peace.”

Cullen bit his lip. “Keeper Deshanna...I want to marry your granddaughter. Is this—” he gestured to himself, “—going to be problematic? My being human, Andrastian...I don’t want to be this... _wall_ that separates her from her clan.”

The Keeper stopped in her tracks, let go of Cullen’s arm, and turned to face him. “Do you _love_ her, Commander?”

Cullen closed his eyes. “More than life _itself_.”

“Is she happy?” she asked.

“I would not presume—” Cullen began.

Deshanna rolled her eyes and grunted. “Do her eyes light up when she sees you? Does she have a smile that’s just for you alone?” She playfully shoved his shoulder. “Do you make her laugh?”

“Maker, yes, yes, yes!” Cullen exclaimed with a laugh of his own.

The Keeper smirked. “Then don’t worry about it. If Ellana’s letters are any indication, our people will have a lot of adjustments to make in the time to come. This...is _nothing_. Come. I have a gift for you. Call it an early wedding present."

Keeper Deshanna led Cullen to the stables that had once belonged to the Duke of Wycome and which was now shared by the Wycome City Council. She pointed out a hart of particularly regal bearing. "This is a Royal Sixteen. Ellana was particularly fond of harts, and this breed is the very pinnacle of the species. It would have become hers as First, but...I think we _both_ know that isn't going to happen. But an even more important role awaits her." She gazed at the Commander, sizing him up, and gripped him by both arms. "Welcome to the clan, Commander."

~~~

Ellana sipped her tea as servants cleared the table. “Varric got back to me six months after the Conclave exploded and told me your brother was alive, but nothing more. Nothing about Meredith, nothing about his becoming Knight-Commander; I still didn’t even know his name.” She chuckled. “But all the same, I had been in mourning. It’s silly. So—childish. I cut my hair off because I believed he was dead. My brother was _livid_. An ‘ill-advised infatuation with a Templar’ he called it.”

“Oh, Sugar.” Mia smiled warmly at her and stood up before pulling Ellana, gently this time, into a hug. “It’s not silly or childish. i think it's sweet.”

Ellana shook her head and laughed weakly. “I barely knew him. Just _one_ day—”

“Sometimes that’s _all_ it takes. You should ask Cullen some time about how things were for him back then. It might make you feel better,” Mia said with a smirk. She looked off into the distance. “He should know about his child. When are you—”

“I’ll tell him when he gets back, first thing,” Ellana said. “I don’t want him to find out by raven, I want to see the look on his face when I tell him.” She grinned up at Mia.

Mia smiled down at Ellana and embraced her again. “Welcome to the family.”


	7. The House of Mirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sera encourages Ellana to have a little fun by playing pranks on her advisors. Cullen returns from Wycome and receives some interesting news.

Ellana sat at the bar and frowned as Cabot pushed the bowl towards her.

“I’ve never had porridge with meat before,” she said, poking at it with her spoon curiously, she snapped her head up to face him with a smirk. “It isn’t _nug_ , is it?”

“Hmph,” Cabot grunted but his gruffness was countered by a distinct twinkle in his eye. “You should _be_ so lucky.” He started to wipe down the bar in random places, which was his way of having an excuse to keep talking to her. “It’s abalone.”

“Abalone?” Ellana asked. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Cabot smiled. “Abalone porridge is the King of Porridges.” Noting her confused expression, he continued, “It’s seafood. Go ahead and try it.”

Ellana shrugged and took a bite, then hummed and closed her eyes in bliss. “Oh, I should get with child more often. This is _delicious_!”

“You like it?” asked Cabot.

“I love it,” Ellana replied. “This is _fish_ , you say?”

Cabot waited until she had shoveled another spoonful into her mouth, then answered, “Sea snail.”

Ellana sputtered. “What? You mean those... _things_ that crawl on the ground and leave a slime trail?”

“No, those are slugs. I thought you’d be _thrilled_ , Inquisitor. Snails are a delicacy in Orlais,” Cabot answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Besides, these snails don’t crawl on the ground. They’re in the ocean. All that water? Perfectly clean.”

Ellana raised her eyebrow at him dubiously.

“Does it _taste_ good?” Cabot asked.

She was just about to answer when Sera gave her a hearty slap on the back, almost causing her to choke on the food that was still in her mouth.

“Don’t _do_ that! The Inquisitor is—” Cabot yelled, causing every eye to look at Ellana.

“Ssh!” Ellana whispered, waving her hands frantically. “She doesn’t know!”

“Don’t know what?” Sera asked loudly. “That you’ve been right barmy lately?” She took a seat next to Ellana and slammed her hand on the bar. “I want a beer...and an oatmeal cookie,” she said to Cabot before continuing, “One minute you and Dorian are laughing yourselves silly reading Varric’s books out loud in the library and the next minute you’re taking to your bed and asking for ice massages from the Queen Bitch. What’s gotten into you?”

Cabot snorted and laid Sera’s order down in front of her.

“Don’t you even start—” Ellana began before she caught sight of the cookie and immediately snatched it before Sera could stop her.

“What do you think you’re doing, you tit?” Sera shrieked as Ellana took a large bite of the cookie.

Ellana’s eyes grew wide as she chewed, “I don’t know,” she mumbled, pushing the food to one side of her mouth, “I just had to have something sweet. Right _now_.”

Sera snatched what was left of her cookie back from Ellana and narrowed her eyes at her, but said nothing for the moment. Instead, she peered around the room for a minute or two, drank down her beer, wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and then said, “You have a problem.”

“W—what?” Ellana paled. _Is Sera on to me? Is she going to blab it all over Skyhold that the Inquisitor is pregnant_?

“That,” Sera said, pointing her thumb behind them, “is a full tavern. But everyone’s drinking alone.”

At Ellana’s sigh of relief, Sera crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t have fun with everybody whinging, and they’ll fall on their swords before Coryphenus can push them.” She stuffed the remainder of her cookie in her mouth and continued as Ellana pouted.

“I’m thinking pranks. Just you and me, messing around in people’s stuff.” She swallowed her cookie. “You know, to start.”

To start? Ellana crooked her eyebrow at Sera. “But I’m the Inquisitor. You know, the _leader_?”

“Right!” Sera said with a wide grin. “They’ll _never_ suspect you.”

“Until you blab to everyone what I did!” Ellana said with a chuckle that spilled into a laugh. “I haven’t forgotten the time you and Hawke and I went into Solas’ room while he was out and we—”

She faltered. Hawke’s...death? Disappearance? It still cast a pall over the Champion’s loved ones who remained with the Inquisition. Anders was chilly, Fenris was lost, and Varric went around looking like his insides had been kicked out. But little Mirai...she would just peer up silently, questioningly at Ellana with her mother’s big green eyes. That was almost too much to bear.

She shuddered. Even if the Nightmare hadn’t killed Hawke, it had been weeks. How long could she have gone without food or water? Ellana remembered back to the time they briefly spent in the raw Fade. _There was water there, but was it safe to drink _? _Still, if anyone could survive those odds, it was that woman._ But Ellana didn’t feel right bringing up that possibility to anyone. The wounds were just too fresh. So, ever since Adamant, whenever she approached a Fade Rift she waited a little longer than usual to seal it, just in case the Champion decided to leap out at a moment’s notice...__

__“Lost a Champion, yeah?” Sera asked, patting her on the arm. Or, more accurately, confirmed. “This is what I’m talking about. Everyone is sad. And if we don’t start getting happy...Corypenis—”_ _

__Ellana snorted despite the seriousness of the situation. She nodded. “Yes, you’re right. We need to boost morale. But how are pranks going to help?”_ _

__“You’ll see,” Sera answered with a smirk. But she didn’t get up from her stool._ _

__In less than a minute’s time, Ellana’s curiosity got the better of her. “Lead the way.”_ _

__Sera blinked. “What, really?” She began to laugh maniacally in what could only be described as disbelief. “Let’s go before you change your mind,” she said with a wide grin as she grabbed Ellana by the arm and took off at a gallop._ _

____

~~~

There was, apparently, a loose brick in Skyhold, on the second floor of the throne room. It was where Sera stashed her tools.

“Why not keep them in your room?” Ellana asked.

Sera snorted. “This is why you’re not a thief.” She reached over and tousled Ellana’s hair. “Don’t shit where you eat, Inky.”

“Fair enough,” Ellana replied.

They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw Vivienne surveying her surroundings. Sera pulled Ellana back forcefully by the arm. “You’re gonna have to get my tools. I’ll distract Vivvy.”

Ellana raised an eyebrow and whispered back, “Don’t you think you have that backwards?”

Sera shook her head vehemently. “Queen Bitch will never suspect _you_ poking about. Besides, she puts so much effort into being superior that she’ll never notice.” She lowered her voice further, to the point that Ellana had to strain to hear her despite the fact that Sera was right next to her. “On the left facing Cullen-Wullen’s office. It’s nicked a little with Varric’s initials, you know, to throw people off the scent.”

“Clever,” Ellana said, rolling her eyes. They walked in again and Sera marched straight up to Vivienne.

“Checked your drawers recently, Vivvy?” Sera asked, standing just so Vivienne would not be able to see Ellana without moving around her.

“Hmm? Yes.” Vivienne answered coolly. “Although I was rather well stocked with that particular shade of viper so I sent it back.”

Ellana had just managed to ease the brick out of place when she heard Vivienne’s words. _Sera left a poisonous snake in Vivienne’s drawers_? She almost dropped the brick on her foot in shock.

“Sent—sent it back?” Sera sounded legitimately surprised, and unpleasantly so.

Ellana gulped, and quickly began feeling around in the hole Sera had made for her stash.

“Yes!” Vivienne smiled hard and bright like a sharpened blade. “It should make it’s way to you at some point.” She paused, as if for effect, then continued. “I was most concerned it might have difficulty on the steps, so I gave it legs. Six of them.”

Ellana smiled triumphantly, both because she had found the tools and because she had managed to not get on Vivienne’s bad side. She wondered to herself whether Vivienne’s...creation would make it past Bull’s sharp senses. _Cole may also come to Sera’s rescue, though Creators only knew why, since Sera was nothing but rude to him_ —

“That’s not...you’re making fun, right?” Sera stammered.

Ellana wedged the brick back into place and casually sat on the floor, leaning against the wall for support.

“Do you sleep with your mouth open?” Vivienne asked airily. “I should avoid that, it was heavy with eggs.” She lowered her voice to a theatrical whisper. “ _Skitter skitter_.”

Sera made loud gagging noises as she turned and walked towards Ellana. Ellana could see Vivienne smile cheerfully, then look her way, her face softening. She called out, “Getting enough rest, my dear?”

Ellana nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes. Thank you, Madame Vivienne.”

“Remember, no soft cheeses or raw meats and vegetables, darling!” Vivienne continued.

Ellana grimaced. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied, as Sera offered her a hand up. “See you later.”

Vivienne seemed to look wistful for a moment. She bit her lip and waved. “Good luck with Cullen, my dear!”

Sera yanked Ellana with her into the library and towards their first stop.

~~~

“Right. General Uptight is still gone!” Sera hissed as she cased Cullen’s office.

Ellana sighed. “Don’t remind me.”

Sera spun around and smirked. “The first rule of Pranking is no whingers. Now have a search about. Find something to mess with and give your soldiers a laugh!”

Ellana scanned the room. Nothing too fragile, too personal... _oh hello_! She stared at the most obvious target, his desk. _Well, maybe it would a little personal_. She smiled to herself. _Oh, I will have fun making this up to him later_!

Sera caught on and walked over. “What, the desk? Oh yes! Center of the Empire and all that. What to do, what to do…” She tapped her chin, deep in thought, then peered over at Ellana with a mischievous expression on her face, eyes twinkling.

Ellana smiled at Sera encouragingly. It had occurred to her that this was as much for her morale as it was for everyone else. “All right, Sera. What do you want to do?”

Sera ran her finger along the top of Cullen’s desk as she pondered. “Thing looks heavy. Don’t want to move or break it…”

Ellana chuckled deep in her throat. “Oh, it’s _sturdy_.”

Sera snapped back to stare at her again. “You mean you—right on the desk?” She drew her hand back.

“He’s cleaned it!” Ellana exclaimed, blushing. “I think.” She bit her lip. “I _hope_.”

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter, not touching the top,” Sera grunted as she crouched and wedged something under the bottom of the desk. “Just a slip of something under here. There! Won’t notice much, but it’s just that _little_ bit wonky. He’s so in control it will piss him royally. I tell one of the soldiers and boom! The General seems like people. And since he works for you—” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Ellana. “— _you_ seem like people.” She clapped Ellana on the shoulder. “Come on, next one!”

~~~

When they stepped out of Cullen’s office, Ellana walked straight into Dorian. Ellana gasped in surprise. He, in turn, raised his eyebrow and smirked.

“Getting into _trouble_ , you two?” Dorian asked, his eyes dancing with amusement. "I hope so."

“What?” Ellana asked. “No! We were just—”

“Feeding the cats!” Sera finished.

Dorian crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Oh, no you weren’t.” He pointed to the crates on the ground next to him. “I’ve been watching them for Cullen while he’s been gone.” He threw his head back and laughed as he bent to pick up the crates. “As long as no one comes away with any permanent scars, my lips are sealed.”

Sera and Ellana looked at each other and shrugged, then Sera held the door open for Dorian.

Before he walked past them, he leaned over and whispered in Ellana’s ear. “Are you feeling all right, my love? You’re looking a little flushed. Make sure to drink plenty of fluids.” He kissed her cheek and went inside, paused, then turned to look back at them. 

“The desk!” He grinned mischievously. “Oh, you girls fight _dirty_. I can’t wait!”

~~~

It was one thing for Cullen to not be in his office—he was out of town after all—but for Josephine to be away...Ellana wracked her brain. _Was some visiting dignitary arriving today_? _Some Antivan general or Nevarran minor nobility_? She hoped that there wasn’t an important meeting she was missing. Sera didn’t seem too concerned, though.

“Right. Little Lady Prissypants. Have a look for something she likes too much.”

General Uptight, Lady Prissypants...these nicknames Sera had for Cullen and Josephine surprised Ellana. _Is this what she really thought of them_? Ellana had thought that they were friends—well, friendly anyway, and she found herself wondering what Sera called her behind her back. She sighed, shrugged, and looked around the room for something that could be meddled with that wouldn’t cause too much damage she’d have to make up for later. _Ah, the door_!

“What, just the door?” Sera frowned for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “Where she greets every important idiot! Yes!”

Ellana tilted her head. “Well, Sera. What do you have in mind?”

Sera giggled evilly, then whispered. “Get a bucket!”

Ellana raised her eyebrow. “That’s it? An empty bucket?”

Sera put her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels. “Um...yes! Of course. An empty bucket.”

Ellana narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you. What’s _in_ the bucket? If you empty your chamber pot in it, so help me—”

Sera’s eyes widened. “Chamber pot! Why didn’t _I_ think of that?” She winked. “Take it easy, Inky. These pranks are supposed to be funny, not mean.” She bit her lip. “How about kitchen slop?”

“Ooh!” Ellana wrinkled her nose.

“Five minutes of sloppy boss gives you weeks of happy kitchen staff. Except for the one who cleans it up, I suppose,” Sera observed.

“We make it count then,” said Ellana. “Have the one on cleanup duty be someone who has it coming.”

Sera grinned.

“Harmond,” the girls said in unison before breaking into cackles and hurrying off to put their plan into motion.

~~~

Not very many people knew that Josephine and Leliana had rekindled the romance of their youth. The disappearance of both women at once would, to most members of the Inquisition, mean an impromptu meeting in the War Room, or perhaps a cup of tea in the gardens, not a sweaty tryst in the vault.

Not only was Leliana not in the rookery, but absolutely no one was in the rookery but the birds. Ellana’s heart began to race. _What is going on_?

Sera scurried ahead, looking this way and that. “Right. Something to get our Shadow of Birds loosened up. Gotta be something. Have a search.”

Ellana scanned the room. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was even safe to attempt to “loosen” Leliana up without alcohol and the cooperation of either Josephine or Alistair. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Leliana’s personal lockbox. _Maybe I can find some clues in there. Surely Sera could get it open_ —

“What’s that? A locked...no, leave that.” Sera shook her head and peered at Ellana with an uncharacteristically somber expression on her face. “Not interested in her hidden things. Not just for a bit of fun.” She bit her lip in concentration. “Maybe...feed her messengers something gassy? No, birds don’t parp. But they _flap_ , and...uh. Huh.”

Solas’ voice rang against the stones. “Who is up there?”

The girls stared at each other, wide-eyed. “Go!” Sera managed to sputter before she grabbed Ellana by the hand and ran.

~~~

“When does he get in?” asked Bull, as he sauntered into Sera’s room and took a seat next to Dorian by the window.

“Any moment now,” said Dorian, “according to the most recent correspondence by raven.”

“Ah, the Girlfriend duty patrol.” Bull sighed and stretched so that his arm fell around Dorian’s shoulders. “Who sent the note?”

“Grim,” Dorian answered with a note of surprise in his voice. “I didn’t even know he was literate.”

“Grim’s _full_ of surprises,” Bull replied before he tipped a bottle of beer into his mouth. He belched, pounded his chest, and grinned. “Did you bring any snacks?”

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “I brought myself. That’s the most important thing.”

Bull smiled slowly, then put the beer bottle down on a nearby table. “That’s _all_ I need,” he whispered, then captured Dorian’s lips in a passionate kiss.

~~~

Finally, the girls ended up where they had started: at The Herald’s Rest, bellying up to the bar. “That was fun!” Sera exclaimed, “An Inquisitor of the People, still remembering you’re one of them.” She downed her bottle of beer and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “If all they got was the Herald stuff, the serious bit, you’d start to sound _pretty_ scary. That works, but not for long.”

Ellana smirked as she swallowed a spoonful of chicken soup. “Whatever it takes. I’d start throwing pies if it kept people inspired.”

Sera snickered. “Pies is _so_ good! And Coryphenus would never do that.”

Ellana snorted, then broke into hysterical giggles trying to picture Corypheus and his lackeys in a pie fight. The vision of Samson with a cream pie sliding down his face and dripping onto his majestic red lyrium armor had her bent over and in tears. She finally managed to squeak out, “True,” before catching her breath.

“It was fun chasing you, Inquisitor,” Sera continued with a wink. “Nice view.” As she leaned over and kissed Ellana on the cheek, Josephine stormed into the tavern, causing her to jump away.

“You!” Josephine shouted, her eyes flashing as she pointed at them.

“Oh, frig!” Sera shouted.

Ellana had never seen the ambassador look so furious. She shrunk back a little, then Sera tagged her on the shoulder. “You did it!” she squealed before taking off into the night.

_You can’t trust Sera, but you can always trust Sera to be Sera._ She sighed and spread her hands out placatingly. “Josie, I can explain—”

~~~

Sera opened the door, rather unceremoniously, as it was her flat, only to find Bull and Dorian straightening their clothes and her curtains...singed. Instead of being angry, however…she giggled maniacally.

“Something particularly funny?” Dorian said, flustered.

“You. And Bull,” Sera replied, laughing some more for good measure as she handed a bag of popped corn to Bull, who had just finished tightening his belt.

“I—I’m glad it amuses you. But what I get from my affairs is,” Dorian sighed, “my affair.”

“I know what _you_ get,” Sera said saucily, as she took a handful of popcorn. “It’s like falling through a tree into custard. Too high! _Wham_!” She threw a kernel of popcorn at Bull, who caught it in his mouth. “Too fast! _Wham_!” Another kernel tossed and caught. “Leaves! Wham! _Splat_!” She punctuated each word by tossing kernel after kernel of popped corn into Bull’s mouth only to surprise Dorian with the last one, just missing his eye due to the grace of a telekinesis spell.

Dorian stared at Sera, dumbfounded, as he guided the kernel into his mouth. “I’m not sure which is worse. The mockery, or the accuracy.”

Bull chuckled. “Eh, depends on how much rest the tree’s had.” Then, his eye having caught a glimpse of something, he hissed, “Ssh! Light’s on. Show’s about to start.”

Sera pulled out her spyglass, but it was snatched away by Dorian. “Oh no you _don’t_! It’s my turn, remember?”

“But it’s _my_ spyglass!” Sera whined.

“You stole it from my pack when we were still in Haven,” Dorian countered.

“You can’t prove it’s yours!” Sera argued.

“It’s got my initials stamped on the side—” Dorian began, but the spyglass was taken away by Bull.

“You’re not getting it back until you two pipe down and behave yourselves,” he said with an amused grunt, and put the lens up to his remaining eye.

“Finders keepers!” Sera hissed.

Dorian zapped her with a tiny electric shock. Sera retaliated by smacking Dorian on the back of the head.

Bull sighed.

~~~

Ellana ran full tilt from the Herald’s rest to Cullen’s tower. She was sure that she would have heard if something had gone wrong with Clan Lavellan, so while their welfare was a concern, it was a distant second to the welfare of her fiance. _Did he and the Keeper get on alright_? _What will he have to say about his sister’s surprise visit_? And most importantly, _how will he take the news that he was going to be a father_?

Her hands shook as she knocked on his front door. She didn’t notice the nearby wind chimes Cullen had recently hung, a gift from her brother, that tinkled in the breeze that heralded her arrival. 

Cullen’s heart leapt in his chest. Though it had only been a week, it had felt like months since he’d held Ellana. His entire body ached for her. So eager was he to get to the door that he banged his kneecap on the bottom of his suspiciously wobbly desk. _Did we damage it during our last tryst_? He bit his lip as he held back a yelp of pain, took a deep breath, then called out, “Come in.” 

Ellana’s heart raced at the sound of Cullen’s voice. She fumbled with the door handle, then let herself in. 

Cullen gasped at the sight of her. _How is it that she is even more beautiful than she’d been when I'd left her_? _She is...radiant._ Ignoring the pain in his knee, he quickly crossed the room to get to her, then pulled her into an ardent embrace. “I have so much to tell you—I’ve missed you, I—” He gently lifted her face and pressed his lips to hers before sighing, “I love you so much. I don’t want to have to leave you like that again.” 

Ellana squeezed Cullen with all her might. “Me neither,” she whispered, pressing her face against his breastplate and relishing the coolness of the metal on her skin. _He hasn’t been home long. Good. Hopefully no one had “accidentally” let on_ — 

Cullen pulled back and looked down at her adoringly. “I—I don’t know where to start. It feels like it’s been _forever_.” 

Ellana bit her lip. “I have a lot to tell you, too.” 

Somewhere in the distance, Dorian could be heard yelling, “Get _on_ with it!” 

Cullen quirked an eyebrow at Ellana. “What’s _that_ all about?” 

Ellana laughed nervously. “Dorian and Bull are probably having another tryst.” 

Cullen smirked. “It’s not like Dorian to be so...demonstrative.” 

Ellana mirrored his smirk. “You don’t have these.” She pointed to her ears. “Enhanced hearing.” 

“Is that so?” Cullen chuckled. He leaned forward and whispered, the stubble of his cheek tickling the tip of her ear, “How much did you miss me, darling?” 

He slid her mage robes off her shoulders to find that she was wearing nothing else underneath. He shuddered with arousal, but she placed her hand on his wrist. “Wait,” she said firmly. “There’s a reason why I’m not wearing anything under my robes and it has nothing to do with me wanting you to bend me over your desk and make me scream till I’m hoarse.” She grinned. “Not that I’d object. But...first, two things. One…” She held up a finger. “Your _sister_ broke into my bedroom to visit.” 

Cullen looked confused for a few seconds. He mouthed the word “sister”, then his eyes widened and he slid his palm down his face. “ _Mia_ ,” he groaned. 

Ellana stood, naked as the day she was born, and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look stern. Cullen tried desperately not to giggle at her. She spoke. “You never told me she was a spy for King Alistair.” 

Cullen looked away. “Oh, _that_.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It must have slipped my mind.” 

When he returned his gaze to her, she was narrowing her eyes at him. “Slipped your mind.” 

Cullen sighed. “She’s a _spy_. It’s _supposed_ to be a secret!” 

“From _others_ , maybe!” Ellana scolded, “Not the woman you’re going to marry! Just _when_ were you planning on telling me?” 

Cullen’s eyes resembled those of a frightened deer. “Eventually?” 

“Ugh!” she grunted and turned her back on him in mock anger. Cullen gripped her gently by her shoulders and kissed the back of her neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her skin. “Believe it or not, I’ve been so preoccupied with us and the Inquisition that it really did slip my mind.” He turned her around to face him. “Do you believe me?” 

Ellana tried to stare at him coldly, but broke into an exasperated smile. “Yes,” she sighed, then kissed him softly. 

Cullen wrapped his arms around her, and, as he sat down on his desk (which wobbled slightly as he did so), pulled her into his lap. The fact that she didn’t have a stitch of clothing on her while he remained completely in uniform was unbelievably erotic to him. He began to plant blisteringly hot kisses down her neck and chest, savoring her moans and whimpers. _All for me._ As she rocked against the growing bulge in his trousers, he groaned. “What...what was the second thing?” 

Ellana’s eyes flew open. She looked into his face. “Cullen...I—” She took his hands that were cupping her breasts and slid them down to her belly. “I’m…” 

Cullen’s eyes opened and he gazed at her, smiling gently. “What is it, emma lath?” He caressed her cheek and kissed the tip of her nose before pressing his forehead against hers. “Tell me,” he whispered. 

“I’m going to have a baby. _Your_ baby,” she said, screwing her eyes shut. 

Cullen flushed. “What.” He couldn’t read her expression, could not understand why she didn’t want to look at him. _Does she not want_ —he tried desperately to maintain a neutral expression, didn’t want to pressure her in any way, but he couldn’t slow down his heartbeat, and at that moment, with her body pressed against his, he was sure she could feel its reverberations through the armor her wore against her. He trembled with the effort of holding himself back. “Darling?” 

“Yes?” she whispered, trembling as much as he was. 

He ran his fingers through her hair. “Do you _want_ my baby?” His voice sounded so small and vulnerable that it shocked him to hear it. 

She grinned broadly even as tears trickled down her cheeks. “I’ve dreamed about it for so long.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. Cullen kissed the tears from her cheeks and let her take her time. “I was worried you would be...disappointed. The _timing_. It’s—” 

“Terrible,” Cullen finished for her. “Wonderful.” He picked her up gently and set her on her feet before kneeling down and pressing his lips to her belly. “Perfect,” he whispered. He grinned up at her. “We should probably move the wedding up, then.” 

Ellana broke into a giggle. “You _think_?” 


	8. All Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen has just learned that Ellana is pregnant with his child. How did he get here?

He couldn’t sleep.

She was lying on her side, her back to him; bare but for a sheet wrapped haphazardly below her buttocks. Ellana got overheated easily, and only slipped under the blankets when it was really cold. Cullen frowned at the scars that marked her skin without rhyme or reason or discernible pattern. She’d joked before drifting off to sleep that she might layer tattoos over them, turn them into something beautiful; a tapestry, perhaps something that told the story of their love in symbols that only they could understand.

He drew closer to her, so close that he was just shy of touching her. His whole body ghosted over hers. Cullen leaned forward slightly to inhale the scent of Ellana’s hair. 

She was with child now. With _his_ child. _When had it happened_?

_Was it that first night_? Relieved beyond words that she’d survived another jaunt in the Fade, something primal, something older than time seemed to course through Cullen’s veins when he saw Ellana leaning against the wall of his office, demurely trying not to draw attention to herself. She’d come back to him, defying the Maker Himself perhaps, to do so. She could have claimed the Throne of the Gods for herself and become a Goddess. 

She could have saved us all, he thought, but she chose him instead.

~~~

“Tell me!” he’d grunted as he rutted wildly into her. “You—ugh—could have been a God. Why didn’t you—”

Ellana was panting but managed to answer. “For you, Cullen. For this.” She reached up and tangled her fingers in his curls. “So that I could be yours.”

“ _Are_ you mine?” he had asked. She was the Inquisitor, and as such she belonged to all of Thedas, but for the first time in his life, Cullen realized that he did not want to share. Not with Gods, monsters, or men.

Ellana smiled as she gazed up at him adoringly. Then, she shifted, raising her legs and crossing her ankles behind his back, drawing him even deeper. “Yes,” she moaned. “All...yours.”

He had promised her that she would be unable to say anything but his name by the time he was done with her, but the truth was, he was the one who was at a loss for all words but one:

“Mine.”

She had said it just before the first time he’d kissed her and he’d repeated it, hardly believing his own ears. “Mine?” It had been too much to hope for that this lovely creature had held the door to her heart open to him for so long, and when Cullen finally kissed Ellana, he thought he would disintegrate with his desire for her. The word, the concept, remembering the way it had made him feel, was what made him come undone again and again.

“Mine.”

~~~

_Yes_ , he thought as he wrapped his hand around his aching cock. 

_That must have been it._

_When I made her mine._

“Mine.”

Cullen thought he was going to jump out of his skin when he felt Ellana’s long fingers encircle his wrist. “Vhenan,” she whispered, a smile playing on her lips, “I’m right _here_ , you know.”

Cullen blushed furiously and let go of his cock like it was on fire. “I—I’m sorry.”

Ellana smirked as she leaned onto her side, facing him. “The only thing you should be sorry about is that,” she reached down and dragged her fingers from the root to the tip of his manhood, “you didn’t invite me.”

Cullen closed his eyes and sighed. “I didn’t want to wake you. And—”

“And?” she asked playfully.

“You need your rest.” Cullen bit his lip. “And I don’t want to hurt you or the baby.”

Ellana stopped stroking his cock abruptly. “ _Hurt_ me?” She chuckled. “Were you thinking about getting a little rougher than usual?” She leaned in and nibbled Cullen’s earlobe. When she drew back to gaze at him, however, he looked...conflicted. She narrowed her eyes and quickly dipped her face towards his, capturing his bottom lip between her teeth and worrying it there before slowly, ever so slowly, releasing it. Ellana whispered huskily to Cullen, “I’m the fucking Inquisitor and no shrinking violet. I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough... _Commander_.”

Cullen’s eyes flew open. He growled, “Bend your knees, _Inquisitor_.”

Smirking, Ellana did what she was told and quickly found herself flipped over onto all fours; then she grinned, knowing what was coming. 

Or at least she thought she knew what was coming, but it turned out that Cullen was still full of surprises.

Ellana raised her hips in anticipation as she felt Cullen’s hands on her, spreading her legs a little further than she already had done. Instead of the sensation of being suddenly and completely filled, however, she felt a feather-light tickling sensation, just dancing along the edges of the lips of her cunt. She pushed back with a groan of frustration, only for Cullen to pull back with a laugh. 

“Bastard,” she growled, then she gasped sharply after Cullen smacked her behind.

“Now, now. That is no way to talk to your future husband,” he whispered. Ellana could hear the smirk on his lips as he spoke. “Though I admire your spirit.” Cullen gripped Ellana by the hips and bit the cleft of her ass. “It’s why I fell in love with you, you know.” He kissed the bite mark he’d left gently and then slipped two fingers inside her cunt, crooking them upwards.

Ellana looked over her shoulder questioningly. “Cullen? Aren’t you going to—”

He began to pull his fingers out, the tips resting just inside her slit. “Not good enough for you?”

She reached back and clutched his wrist, digging her fingernails into his skin so hard she left little red crescents behind. People were going to talk. “If you’re not going to replace those with your tongue or your cock, then don’t you _dare_ pull those out.”

Cullen chuckled as his slid his finger back inside her. “Rock your hips, darling.”

Ellana grunted with effort as she pushed back and forth shamelessly against Cullen’s hand. Her cheeks flushed and she tried nobly but unsuccessfully to stay quiet. If this was the way it was going to be, then damn it, she was going to make him work for it.

Cullen whispered huskily, his voice dripping with lust. “The Lady Inquisitor. The Herald of Andraste herself, is fucking herself on my fingers and moaning like a wanton whore. If all of Thedas could see her now!”

Ellana rutted harder. Despite the fact that she was doing her best to avoid climax, it felt too good for her to stop. “Void take you,” she muttered under her breath.

“Her belly...swelling with my seed...my child.” He reached between his legs with his other hand and stroked his cock, sweeping his thumb over the slit and spreading the slick precum that had started to seep out all around the head. It would have quick and easy to come like this, and to make her come with him, but Cullen was never one to take the easy route. He swiftly pulled his fingers out again and Ellana whimpered at the sudden and aching emptiness in her core. 

Cullen snatched a pillow and slid it under Ellana’s belly. “Face down, Sugar Lips,” he rasped.

This was different, Ellana thought, as she took her time getting into position. Then she felt Cullen tangle his fingers in her hair and gently but firmly push her head down. “I said, face _down._ ”

Ellana giggled wickedly and Cullen smacked her ass again before kneeling down and spreading her wide, completely exposing her to himself. “Oh,” he sighed as he stared at her in awe. “The holiest of holies.” He leaned forward and inhaled. “Sweeter than Chantry incense.” 

Ellana shuddered under the delicate pressure of his nose nudging against her nether lips. “Cullen, my Commander... _please_ …” she whimpered. Her voice pitched higher and higher with each word until the last one came out like a squeak.

“Pleasing,” Cullen whispered against her cunt, “is _precisely_ what I have in mind.”

She never knew anyone could come undone so quickly. But Cullen wasn’t finished with her yet, and wouldn’t be for some time to come.

She was still trembling and incoherent when Cullen gently flipped her onto her back, then took an ankle in each of his hands and pushed up. When he got her feet to either side of her head, she took a deep breath.

“Too much?” he asked.

“No,” she grinned. “Elves are flexible. From what I understand, it’s part of our allure.” She paused for a moment, her eyebrows coming together in confusion. “ _Where_ did you learn this?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You told me that you were a virgin before we…” Ellana trailed off, not sure what to add to that.

Cullen blushed. “Well,” he replied, “you know how much I love my books.” He crossed Ellana’s ankles behind her head and maintained his grip, supporting himself with his hands as he continued to lean forwards. “Not _everything_ in my library is military tactics and religious scholarship, you know.”

Ellana’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “How can you _still_ be blushing? You have your pregnant fiancee spread wide for you while you hold her ankles behind her head. I would think that we were well past the stage of bashfulness.”

“I’m not embarrassed, I’m…” Cullen smiled at Ellana and she thought her heart would stop, he looked so beautiful and sincere, “Lovestruck.”

Cullen bobbed his head to suck her nipples one after the other. “You’re so sweet,” she sighed, running her fingers through his curls.

Cullen released a nipple with a pop and chuckled. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He entered her again, sinking in so deeply that his eyes rolled back in his head. “Mmmmmaker,” he moaned, then he focused his sights on Ellana again. “Oh, that's right,” he grunted, “I forgot that you prefer it if I pray to you instead.” Cullen smirked at her. “Please absolve me, my lady.”

She looked up at him challengingly. “ _Make_ me.”

~~~

“Cullen?” Ellana murmured sleepily.

“Mmm?” Cullen hummed curiously.

“What was it like for you,” she whispered, “when we met in Kirkwall?”

Cullen’s eyes flew open, then he turned on his side to face her and smirked. “Complicated.” When she punched him in the shoulder, he laughed and continued. “Honestly?” he sighed and ran his fingers through Ellana’s hair. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. But we’d only just met.” He closed his eyes and he remembered back to that time. “I kept telling myself to stop staring at your lips.” Cullen leaned over and kissed Ellana on the tip of the nose. “You had other charms as well, but for much of the time I spent by your side I was wondering to myself...what it would be like to kiss you.” He licked his lips, tonguing the scar there a little while he was absorbed in thought. “And when it came time to leave you...I couldn’t walk away without answering that question for myself.” 

Cullen caressed Ellana’s cheek and continued. “For that, I am sorry. I should have woken you, asked for your permission, but I was afraid.”

“Afraid I would have said no?” asked Ellana.

Cullen shook his head and sighed. “Afraid you’d say yes.”

Ellana mulled his answer over some. She understood what he’d meant, that he was still too angry back then to let himself be loved, especially by a mage. “And after?”

“I thought about you. _Every_ day, I thought about you. As the years passed, I managed to convince myself that you had likely forgotten all about me, and believe it or not, that lessened the pain some. As long as you weren’t somewhere missing me, as long as I wasn’t causing you to suffer, it was...bearable.”

“I went back for you,” Ellana said softly. “I had a nightmare...no, a vision. About Kirkwall. About...rivulets of blood in the streets and fire from the skies. I rode all the way from Wycome to try to find you, and I got there just in time to see the Chantry explode.”

“Anders,” Cullen said softly.

“I know,” Ellana replied. “I had read his manifesto shortly before I had my vision.”

“You read Anders’ manifesto?” Cullen asked incredulously. “Why?”

“It was everywhere!” Ellana answered. “I couldn’t avoid it! And, I was bored. Not much reading material in Clan Lavellan.”

“What did you think?” Cullen inquired.

Ellana looked up at Cullen and shuffled closer to him, turning her back so he could hold her from behind. “I thought you were dead.”

It wasn’t what he’d meant, but honestly this was more interesting to hear. Cullen bit his tongue and let her continue, wrapping his arms around her affectionately.

“I had been writing to Varric and suddenly, I got no word from him for six months. Feared the worst, until he finally got back to me. Two lines and his name. _I’m alive. He’s alive. Varric._ ” Ellana took Cullen’s hand and squeezed. “I’m glad things worked out the way they did.”

“Yes,” Cullen said with a yawn before kissing the nape of her neck. “I think the two of us...the three of us, are going to be all right.”


	9. The Woman Who Blazes Like Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor Lavellan goes to parlay with the Avvar of Stone-Bear Hold and is faced with a difficult choice.

In all of her travels, Ellana had never seen such a beautiful place. Maybe Val Royeaux could compare, but the Frostback Basin was different, gilded by Gods, not man. So when Helsdim Rolfsen, trader-ambassador of the Avvar of Stone-Bear Hold, gushed about the splendor of the Orlesian capital, she was able to smile and understand the allure. People don’t appreciate the beauty that surrounded them as they grew as much as beauty of a fresher kind, she thought, and it was no different with her own self. 

She adored the Inquisition’s bases in the trees. Though Solas had previously assured her, insisted really, that their people hadn’t lived in them, but in towering spires of crystal, she was still drawn to the arbors, the birds whose feathers danced with all the colors of the rainbow, and the lake so wild and deep that she was sure that it must flow into the sea.

She had changed. No longer willing or able to live the nomadic life of her fellow Dalish, Ellana had made Skyhold her home. _But_...she thought, as she gazed out at the lake while the sun set, _maybe I could have two. A summer home perhaps_?

The Stone-Bear people...their ways were similar enough to Clan Lavellan that she felt a certain kinship to them. _I could be happy here._

_But would Cullen_?

Ellana leaned her head on Dorian’s shoulder and he wrapped his arm around the small of her back. He whispered to her, “Every time I think I’ve seen the ugliest possible Avvar statue, a new one turns up that surpasses my expectations.”

She snorted. “Think we’ve given Varric and Cassandra enough time?”

Dorian sighed. “Never. Just send for Bull and Cole. They’re more fun, anyway.”

“Hmph,” she grunted. “Then Cole and I will be waiting for you and Bull to finish up.”

“Nonsense!” Dorian replied. “We’re in our ‘settled’ phase now. We don’t have to rut like teenagers at every given opportunity to prove we love each other.”

Ellana wondered whether Dorian’s barb was a little swipe at Cullen and herself as well. Dorian turned his head to look at her and saw her biting her lip. He couldn’t tell if she was blushing because the setting sun set a golden cast on everything, so he just launched into it. “I’m not talking about you and Cullen, you know. You spend _weeks_ apart at a time. Plus,” he reached over and patted her belly gently, “you’ve got that pregnancy fever. Cullen is probably strutting around Skyhold right now like a rooster in a hen house.” 

Ellana placed her hand over Dorian’s and squeezed. “Is the thrill gone, Dorian?”

“No, you little scamp,” he said with a laugh. “So don’t go making another sex cake with Sera just yet.”

~~~

“Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Bull roared after Team Inquisition’s victory at Hakkon’s Trials. “We kicked ass!”

“I was surprised that when they said ‘no holds barred’, they really meant it,” replied Ellana with a smirk. 

“Why does it surprise you?” asked Cole.

“Mages are usually barred from using their powers during these types of competitions, Cole. Some people seem to think that using one’s natural gifts is ‘cheating’.”

Cole thought about this for a moment. “The Avvar seem to hold very different ideas about mages than the rest of Ferelden. It’s too bad I—I mean, the _other_ Cole, couldn’t have been born _here_.” He peered at Ellana. “Even abominations are considered just a normal phase for young mages.”

“I guess,” Ellana said, hoisting a mug of cider to her lips, “they’re not really abominations then.”

“Yes, it is a peculiar culture, isn’t it?” asked Dorian. “Barbaric, yet in some ways...more...tolerant than the rest of Thedas. I think only Rivain compares with the leniency shown to mages.”

They arrived at camp to share the news of their winning when Ellana caught sight of the grave expression on Scout Harding’s face. She walked over and crouched down. “What’s wrong, Lace? You seem troubled.”

“Did...did you see Scout Grandin on your way back?” Harding asked, “He should be on watch, but he’s... _gone_. Grandin was a good friend of Jace Turbot, one of the researchers. He was killed by Hakkonites.” Lace smiled sadly, as if she was trying to shake off the fear and it wasn’t working. “I’m starting to worry that Grandin’s gone and done something...stupid. He was supposed to send word back when he reached his station, but...nothing.” She paused and bit her lip. “Keep an eye out for him, please? For me?”

Ellana reached up and capped Lace by the shoulders. “You need only ask.”

~~~

A few hours later, Ellana and her compatriots were skirting the western edges of the Frostback Basin which was contested territory between the Sun-Bear Tribe and the Jaws of Hakkon, as well as Grandin’s patrol route. They caught sight of something glinting in the retreating sunlight and ran towards it.

“I hope we’re not too late,” Ellana huffed as she ran towards the shining object.

Everyone skidded to a stop when they realized that the reflected light was from the blood pooled on the bodies of fallen Hakkonites.

“Do you think Grandin is one of the dead?” asked Dorian, as he crouched to examine the corpses.

Bull looked over the corpses. “Doesn’t look like the gear of Inquisition people to me.”

“Wait, I found something!” exclaimed Cole, waving a blood-spattered piece of paper around.

Ellana gingerly took the paper from Cole and looked it over. “It’s orders from Harding, telling Grandin to be patient.”

Bull stroked his chin. “Looks like he survived the fight with the Hakkonites. Won’t get far though.”

The next body they found, about a quarter-mile away, didn’t belong to Grandin either. It was yet another Hakkonite, with the longsword that had killed them still stuck in his back. Ellana bit her lip, but she cocked her head to signal to the others that they should keep looking.

On and on they went, usually finding individual corpses, until a flickering light caught Ellana’s eye and she ran towards it. _A campsite_! _Perhaps someone there has seen Grandin_ , she thought.

It was indeed a campsite, or what remained of one, but the flickering light was no campfire. Instead of stab wounds, these Hakkonites had been burned to death. “I didn’t know Grandin was a mage,” she murmured, examining the bloodied bodies of several Inquisition scouts that were also present. 

“He isn’t,” answered Bull, as he crouched down to more closely examine the bodies. “If he could cast spells, he probably couldn’t lift a sword like the ones used to kill the others, much less wield it against this many men.”

“Then how—” Ellana began, before she made eye contact with Dorian, who had gone uncharacteristically pale, and snapped her jaw shut. She looked where he was looking: at words carved into the wall of a dilapidated hut:

_Blood spilled will be answered. The Jaws of Hakkon will answer._

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no.”

She didn’t know she could run that fast. Leaping over brambles and ducking low-hanging branches to the point where Bull’s hollers of “Slow the fuck down” grew faint behind her. Cole could keep up, of course he could. Cole could be anywhere but for the waiting for her. Dorian had his haste spell, or he’d be huffing and puffing. 

More than he was already, anyway. He was admonishing her. “You shouldn’t jerk yourself about so, my love! What if you trip and fall? If you lose that baby, Cullen will—”

But she wasn’t paying attention. Not to Dorian and not to where she was putting her feet. No, she was following the smell of burning flesh, and was rather distracted by the massacre just ahead of them. More burning bodies, at least a dozen. Ellana felt herself pitch forward and held her arms out in an effort to break her imminent fall—

—only to be caught at the last second by Cole. “I will never let you fall,” he whispered, as he gently set her on her feet. 

Dorian clapped her on the shoulder. “No reason to be careless, however.” He shook his head. “Festis bei umo canavarum!”

Bull finally reached them. “What the _fuck_ were you thinking? You could have gone tumbling over the edge there!”

Ellana’s eyes caught sight of an anomaly even as she sought an answer. _A gully_? _Here_? _Strange._ She began to walk towards it. “I was trying to stop more of this from happening,” she finally replied, gesturing at the dead Hakkonites.

“Why?” asked Bull. “The way I see it, he’s doing our job for us.”

Ellana bit her lip. “But at what cost?”

“Indeed,” Dorian said with a sigh. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or disturbed.” He scanned the scene before them. "These Hakkonites were unarmed.” 

“This wasn’t revenge,” Ellana breathed. “This was slaughter”

Together, they turned and entered the ancient culvert.

“Grandin?” Ellana called out. Cole held his arm out in front of her. 

“No,” answered Cole, shaking his head warningly. “He’s different.”

Nodding, she cautiously approached. When the crouching figure got to his feet and turned to face her, Ellana couldn’t help but gasp. White blonde hair, violet eyes, short of stature...but for her vallaslin, it was almost like looking into a mirror. Grandin was an odd name for an elf. Perhaps he was from the city—

More bodies, strewn about the cavern in a vexingly casual way. _Just how many Hakkonites had he killed_? 

Grandin looked back at her just as curiously as she did him, then his face softened into a smile that did not quite meet his eyes. “Inquisitor! I’ve abandoned my post, haven’t I? I had cause. Just...missing the permission part.”

Ellana stared at him. As if the lack of permission could possibly be the issue. She blinked, then narrowed her eyes sympathetically. “Harding told us about your friend, Jace.”

Grandin’s own eyes flashed and for a moment Ellana swore she saw fire in them. “He was studying at the university. Those Hakkon bastards! Jace wasn’t a soldier—he wasn’t even armed.” He closed his eyes and bit his lip. “After this, he was going to show me Val Royeaux. I’ve never been—I thought we might...I _can’t_ let this happen.”

And there it was. “Oh,” she breathed, then fell silent. What would she have done in his place, had they slain Cullen? She would have wiped the Hakkonites from the face of Thedas, but then, she had the power, not to mention the clout, to make that happen. “You’ve been fighting your way through the Jaws of Hakkon? Alone?” Ellana thought back on all the bodies they’d encountered and wondered why she’d never heard of him before. His battle prowess was...impressive. Why was he just a lowly scout? 

She was soon startled by his oddly mirthful laughter, as if she’d told a hilarious joke. 

“I wasn’t a soldier either, not before this.” he volunteered. “I lived in the Circle.” 

Ellana turned and raised her eyebrow at Bull, who merely shrugged in response. She smiled and had begun to visibly relax when she caught a glimpse of Cole sadly shaking his head. 

Grandin continued. “Never had the skill for combat spells, so I picked up a sword. I wanted to... _fight_...for the Inquisition. The Jaws of Hakkon almost ended that, too. I was bleeding out...when It saw me. It _knows_ what I know.” 

“Oh, dear,” Dorian murmured under his breath. 

“Crap,” grumbled Bull. 

Only Cole remained silent. Grandin kept speaking, as if he hadn’t heard anything that had been said by the others. “They will _not_ kill more people! Not like Jace—” his voice became distorted as he continued. “I _will_ protect them, Inquisitor!” 

Ellana’s heart ached for him. He seemed so adamant in his devotion to protecting their fellow members of the Inquisition, but she could also feel the heat coming off of him in waves. He was an abomination now, and a rage abomination at that. 

_Rage, like fire, consumes._

She was no Andrastian, no Circle Mage. She didn’t want to condemn him outright, so she thought, _if Grandin is still in control, or if the spirit’s intentions are virtuous, I could simply ask the spirit to depart_. “It doesn’t have to be this way,” she began, doing her best to ignore her vision of a scowling Cassandra, who likely would have run him through by now. “Release Grandin, Spirit.” 

Grandin laughed, and spoke again in that distorted voice that caused Ellana to shudder. “Release? The spirit remains because _I_ want it to. I _will_ protect our people! I want to _fight_ , Inquisitor!” 

A bead of sweat trickled down Ellana’s temple. Was a Rage demon capable or even desirous of serving mortals altruistically? There was no mistaking the earnestness in his? their? voice. She flitted her eyes in Cole’s direction. _He_ had wholeheartedly devoted himself to the Inquisition, just as Grandin wished to, or so he said. 

_But Cole was different, wasn’t he_? _Spirit made flesh, not spirit merged with flesh by virtue of a dubious bargain. And that is where the distinction ultimately lies. Cole did not hijack another sentient being to come to the Inquisition, he...became. By sheer force of will._

She shut her eyes and heard both Cullen and Cassandra’s voices in her head. Being an abomination was a serious enough offense. But Grandin was also an Inquisition scout disobeying a direct order from the Inquisitor herself, and she had to be thinking of the Inquisition like the _Inquisitor_ , and not just as a Dalish Apostate. 

She took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “Let it go, Grandin. There is no scenario where this will end well for you. Even if I let you keep it, the Rage demon will twist you into something you’re not!” 

Grandin shook his head emphatically. “This _is_ me. Only better.” 

Ellana raised an eyebrow. “So you refuse?” 

“I will _make_ you understand,” answered Grandin drawing his sword with one hand and revealing a ball of flame in the other. “I will make you yield and you _will_ let me serve. If you stop me, then I cannot stop them. I _won’t_ allow it!” 

Ellana swept one foot behind her and held out one hand, crackling with lightning, “I will _not_ yield. Demon.” 


	10. The Man Who Froze Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana and her companions continue their mission in the Frostback Basin, and the Inquisitor meets her match in a way she'd never expected.

To Ellana’s horror, instead of striking at her with the ball of flame that rolled about in his palm, Grandin let the fire engulf him. He transformed before her eyes; gone was the fair elven male she’d just been conversing with. Grandin’s longsword clattered to the ground - he no longer had the fingers to grasp them - and he took the form of a Rage Demon. Only larger. Because of course a Rage Demon combined with a mortal was more than just a demon anymore. Fearsome and fierce, That-Which-Had-Once-Been-Grandin nearly enveloped her in a font of fire. She was saved only by her quick thinking and her ability to phase shift.

What was particularly horrifying about That-Which-Had-Once-Been-Grandin was the fact that she could see his face, Grandin’s face, his fair elven face, in the flaming horror that stood, no, rolled about, before her. And, unlike the demons that poured out of the rifts, it could still speak.

 

Even as he struck at her, he was alternately pleading and demanding to serve her and to serve the Inquisition. 

 

“Of all the days to bring the mage that only shoots fire—” Bull grunted as he swung his greataxe that Dagna had enchanted to deal cold damage.

 

“You weren’t exactly complaining last night,” snapped Dorian.

 

“That,” Bull countered, “was last night. Right now, I’m the only useful one here. What we need right now is someone with some command of ice magic-and-I-can’t- _believe_ -I-just-said-that-out-loud.”

 

Dorian’s eyes widened. “Wait, are you actually saying you’d prefer the company of the Divine Miss Viv—”

 

Ellana could see Bull’s skin turn slightly paler in the flickering firelight. “That’s Madame de Fer—” he began.

 

Dorian sighed heavily. “Oh for—how many times to I have to tell you that she _can’t hear us_!”

 

Bull struck That-Which-Had-Once-Been-Grandin in the side, causing him to howl in pain. “There’s only one way to settle this. Cole—”

 

“No!” Interrupted Dorian. “Cheating!”

 

“Yes, The Iron Bull?” Cole replied, ignoring Dorian’s plea to stay out of their ill-timed argument.

 

“Does Madame de Fer scry on us when we’re away from Skyhold?” Bull continued unabated.

 

Cole was just about to open his mouth to reply when Ellana rolled back to dodge a fireball. “Can we not do this right now?”

 

“Lady Inquisitor!” That-Which-Had-Once-Been-Grandin cried out in a distorted voice, “Don’t make me destroy all you have worked for—” it paused, then rumbled in demonic laughter “—like your child!” Something resembling a limb reached out and licked at the armor that covered her torso. “Let. Me. Serve!”

 

“No!” Ellana hissed in pain and blocked a second blow with her spirit blade. Cole deftly stepped up beside her and thrust icy daggers into the rage abomination, his movements like water to Grandin’s fire. He made his intentions clear as he slid into place in front of her, forcing her to take a step back. 

 

While Cole parried, Bull struck from behind, shattering the protective barrier. From over her shoulders, fingers of frost extended towards, then gripped Grandin’s form in a prison of ice. “Now, my love!” Dorian shouted. Ellana extended her arms wide as lightning coursed through her body, out through chest and shattered Grandin’s demonic form with Cole twisting out of the way just in time.

 

When all was said and done, Grandin lay on the ground, panting as fire hemorrhaged out of him and sunk back into the ground from whence it came. “Inquisitor…” he whispered hoarsely, as he extended a bloody hand to her.

 

Dorian held her by the shoulder at first, but Ellana silently patted his hand, as if to say, “It’s okay.” He released her, and the Inquisitor knelt by Grandin’s side, cradling his broken body in her lap.

 

“I—I’m sorry,” Grandin gasped. “I wasn’t...strong...enough.” 

 

The light faded from his eyes, and for a while, Ellana simply stared at his still form in disbelief. She’d never lost one of her people before; not like this, before her eyes, and by her own hand, no less. She had come to pride herself on her ability to resolve things without bloodshed (at least when she wanted to). 

 

Ellana took a deep breath, looked up, and closed her eyes. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she fought to collect herself. She was the Inquisitor, and she had a duty to fulfill—as an elf now doubly so. She brushed Grandin’s hair back from his eyes and whispered,

"O Falon'Din Lethanavir--Friend to the Dead.

Guide my feet, calm my soul,

Lead me to my rest."

After they returned Grandin’s body to camp, Ellana instructed Harding that when she was able, she should contact his family, as their beliefs dictated what should be done with him. Then, she squared her shoulders and walked to Stone-Bear Hold.

~~~

Ellana peered over the clouds of sage smoke at the man covered in heavy furs. Beside him flitted figures like fire that did not burn. “Behold, Worthy Ones!” he said to the wraiths, “The woman who blazes like fire and mends the air!” He bowed to her. “I am the Augur of Stone-Bear Hold. I greet you, as do our Gods and the Gods of our ancestors.”

 

This honorific gave her pause, but all the same, Ellana found herself bowing her head in reverence, and in return felt an almost tickling warmth roll over her skin. “What did you mean when you said that I blaze like a fire?”

 

The Auger’s smile glowed like moonlight through the smoke. “How do you think you appear to the Gods of the Fade?” he retorted. “To those beyond the Veil, your hand burns like the Watchman’s bonfire.”

 

A tiny gasp escaped from between Ellana’s lips as she considered the implications of this. “Are you saying _every_ spirit in the Fade knows where I am?”

 

The Auger tilted his head thoughtfully. “Only those nearby, but thoughts spread quickly among the Gods.” He smiled again. “They tell me strange things. That you muddied time’s waters where the cliffs are red, and returned again.”

 

“It is...as they say.” Ellana gazed at the sage’s embers in the Augur’s pit, then continued.“I have heard rumor of a renegade mage who has exiled herself to the woods outside the hold. Can you tell me anything about her situation?”

~~~

"If you don't know what you're doing, it takes a lot of energy to banish a spirit," said Dorian as he examined the site where the sacrifice was supposed to have taken place.

 

“It can take a lot of energy even _if_ you know what you’re doing. For some spirits, so I’ve been told,” the Seeker added.

 

Ellana crouched and weighed the lyrium bottle in her hand. "Then why is the vial still full?"

 

Cassandra was the first to turn and run back towards Sigrid's hut.

 

Varric huffed and puffed alongside Tramp as he tried desperately to keep up. "Seeker...the rest of us...should...probably be there…too—"

 

Ellana struggled as well. Though aided by a much-appreciated Haste spell from Dorian, she was only able to match Cassandra stride for stride by what the Seeker would call "cheating".

 

When they arrived at the Exile's hut, Sigrid was waiting for them, looking for all the world like a young woman caught past curfew with her paramour. She bit her lip and scuffed at the ground with the toe of her boot as Cassandra listed the evidence they'd collected against her: an offering unburnt, lyrium undrunk.

 

Suddenly, Sigrid burst out, "It's been with me since I was a child! Calmed my fears, kept me company! He-it is my only friend. I can't do it, Inquisitor. I just...I can't." The girl met Ellana’s gaze defiantly. "I would rather die." Then she bowed her head, resigned to her fate; bearing her neck to an invisible blade she just knew would come crashing down upon her.

 

Cassandra's hand flew to the haft of her longsword. "Give the word, Inquisitor."

 

But Cole suddenly appeared by Ellana's side, and he rested his hand on her forearm as he addressed Sigrid. "It loves you too. It will stay if you want it."

 

All eyes turned towards Ellana. Cole squeezed her arm gently. She sighed. Cullen was going to be upset, to say the least. _My burden to bear_. "The Inquisition...could use a mage with a unique perspective. You and your spirit certainly qualify."

 

"What?! Ellana are you--" Cassandra began, but Varric tugged on the edge of her tabard and shook his head when she turned to look at him. She stared at him silently for a few seconds, then turned back to Ellana and bowed her head in reluctant acquiescence.

 

Sigrid stared up at Ellana as if she didn't think she'd heard correctly. "You want me to pledge my staff to your Inquisition? Even bound to a spirit?"

 

Ellana shrugged. "Your people consider it a gift. I'm sure you can handle yourself."

 

Cole's hand relaxed on her arm. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smile. "It's good to have a home where you can feel yourself." When she turned completely to look at him, he was gone.

 

"Um. What was _that_?" Varric asked. "I thought he had gone back to Skyhold with Bull."

 

Ellana shook her head and murmured. "No, Cole told me he wanted to stay with Harding. Said he had...unfinished business with the Avvar."

 

"Well, whoever he is, he's a life-saver," whispered Sigrid.

 

"Yes," Ellana concurred. "He is."

~~~

“This is madness. If you must, have this Avvar abomination meet with our own scholars. In a small room. Far from anything. With a Templar present…”

Ellana crumpled up the response she’d received mere minutes ago by raven from Cullen and threw it into the corner of her tent. He was furious with her over her decision to recruit Sigrid Gulsdotten. The Chantry would indeed call Sigrid an abomination, but that would be glossing over the fine details and cultural differences between the Avvar and the rest of Thedas.

 

He didn’t understand, and what was worse was that he didn’t want to understand. His full response, once she’d retrieved it from the opposite corner and smoothed out the parchment, was proof positive of his stubborn refusal to see this case with anything but the eyes of a Templar.

 

She had other reasons for sparing the young woman that it seemed only Cole and Dorian truly knew and understood.

 

Ellana narrowed her eyes, then quickly exhaled through her nose with a vicious-sounding snort before turning to her desk. She was the fucking Inquisitor and there was no Divine on the Sunburst throne; the Chantry was in shambles...and yet, that made it malleable. If she couldn’t shape Chantry policy, who could? She began to write a response to Josephine...

“Ambassador Montilyet,

As you said in your earlier correspondence, the Chantry is too weak to forbid much of anything. After much deliberation, I have decided that your idea of having Sigrid embarking on a lecturing tour is a good one. 

Spare no expense. I want all of Thedas to see that there is more than one way to approach the complicated relationship between mages and the Fade.

Until there sits a Divine on the Sunburst Throne, I plan to fully utilize the remarkable opportunity afforded to me by the virtue of my role as Inquisitor. This is one small, but important step towards a better world for all the people of Thedas.

Thank you for your input in this matter. Please feel free to approach me about similar matters in the future.

Inquisitor Lavellan”

~~~

“...When I helped the Avvar at Stone-Bear Hold, we learned that the Jaws of Hakkon once bound their God’s soul to a beast,” Ellana said as she and her companions accompanied Professor Bram Kenric through the ruins that lay less than a quarter of a mile from the Hakkonite stronghold. “According to the spirit, the dragon Ameridan faced was powerful...and accompanied by hostile Avvar.”

 

Kenric paused as he brushed his fingertips along some faint carvings on the nearby wall. “You believe they could be one and the same?” His eyes widened. “That would mean...of course, of course! Brilliant!”

 

Ellana gave him a quizzical look. Bram took a deep breath and nodded apologetically before explaining, “800 years ago, the Second Blight threatened a weakened Orlais. A perfect time for the Avvar to attack. This ‘Avvar God-Dragon’ could have endangered the Orlesian Empire, had Ameridan not stopped it. That explains why he accepted such a dangerous mission...and likely how he died.” He turned slightly to Ellana’s right. “Yes, Dorian?”

 

Ellana looked over to see Dorian lowering his hand. She snorted. “Were you raising your hand just now?”

 

“I have an important question!” Dorian replied.

 

“You’re not at school anymore, you know,” Cassandra snapped.

 

Dorian quirked an eyebrow at the Seeker. “He’s a _Professor_.”

 

“So _what_?” asked Varric. “The Seeker’s point stands. This isn’t a classroom.”

“ _All of Thedas_ is his classroom,” Dorian retorted with a smirk before turning to address Kenric. “Is it _not_?” 

“I—I guess it is,” Professor Kenric replied, puffing his chest out slightly. “What was your question?” 

Dorian frowned. “ _Now_ I’ve forgotten.” He turned to his companions. “You are all terrible and I _hate_ you.” After rubbing his forehead with his fingertips, he looked up again, eyes sparkling with delight. “I remember now. Exactly how bad would it be if the contemporary Jaws of Hakkon bound their god to a dragon again?” 

Kenric shrugged. “With Orlais still recovering from the civil war and the mage-templar conflict—” 

“Bad, right?” Ellana interrupted. “It would be bad, right?” 

“—not to mention the remaining demon-rifts, and Corypheus himself—” Kenric continued unabated.

“We get it. It would be bad. _Really_ bad,” Ellana sighed. 

“—A high dragon given malice and magic by an Avvar God-Spirit could hypothetically destroy much of Orlais.” 

Ellana and her companions stared at Kenric. “That does sound bad,” answered Dorian. 

“Well, _hypothetically_ anyway,” replied Kenric. 

“Hypothetically bad if Orlais were destroyed?” Ellana lit her Veilfire torch dramatically. There was really no other way to do it. 

“The entire situation is hypothetical,” Kenric paused and mused absentmindedly. “Ah, the things I’ve seen since joining the Inquisition.” He grinned. “It’s _exciting_!” 

Varric narrowed his eyes in the flickering light. “You’re not concerned about the literal existence of an Avvar God?” he asked Kenric as Ellana wandered ahead, torch held aloft. 

Kenric shrugged, “Not to downplay the important historical significance to the Avvar, but...magic does not equal Godhood.” 

“In other words, it can’t be much of a God,” Ellana murmured, “if it allows itself to be bound and directed by mere mortals.” She paused and raised her torch a little higher. “What is this?” 

Bram followed after her and gazed in wonder. “A pair of shrines. This one is clearly Andrastian, albeit from a very early period, Likely pre-Divine. But this!” He reached out and gently touched the small halla figurines before them. “This is elven! One of their Gods. Um, what was it…” The Professor began to pace back and forth while everyone else turned and looked at Ellana. She had started to open her mouth when he spoke again. “Every Mother Finds Druffalo Among Sleeping Juniper Groves…G-something. The one with the deer.” 

Ellana rolled her eyes and sighed. “That would be Ghilan’nain, Mother of the Halla.” 

“Yes!” Bram’s face broke into a wide grin. “Brilliant, thank you! That would have bothered me all day.” 

Scout Harding approached and everyone jumped in surprise. “Two shrines for two lovers: Inquisitor Ameridan and Telana. Maybe Telana was an elf.” 

“How did you _do_ that just now?” sputtered Dorian, clutching his chest in shock. 

Harding grinned. “I’ll _never_ tell.” 

“Oh, that’s good,” Bram murmured. “The Chantry expunged references to elves before the Exalted March on the Dales. They erased the Canticle of Shartan. They must have done the same to Telana.” 

“The Chantry should not rewrite history to cover up inconvenient truths,” Ellana snapped. She was surprised when Cassandra took and patted her hand.

"Agreed,” the Seeker declared. “The Chant of Light should spread the truth, not suppress it.” 

~~~

Having finally earned enough favor with Stone-Bear Hold, Thane Svarah Sun-Hair gave The Inquisition leave to form an allied force with her own fighters in order to lay siege to the icy stronghold of the Hakkonites. And it was fortunate that the Avvar were with them. Somebody had to scale the walls and open the gate for the Inquisition forces. Once inside, Ellana and her companions were then able to concentrate on finding the sources of the loud and ominous chanting deeper within while the warriors of Stone-Bear Hold slaked their long dormant blood-lust.

It was freezing cold.

“This isn’t natural,” intoned Dorian.

“Oh, y-y-you t-t-think s-s-so?” snapped Cassandra, her teeth chattering.

Tramp barked and pointed his snout towards what looked like an unlit brazier.

“Good boy!” Varric said as he scratched the pup behind the ears.

“Yes, he’s good for something. _Huzzah_ ,” groaned Dorian.

And so it was that they bounded from brazier to brazier, solving the puzzles that would unlock the inner chamber and lead them to the innermost chamber, in the hopes that they might stop Gurd Harofson, Thane of the Hakkonites, from becoming the next avatar of Hakkon.

~~~

After a surprisingly bloody and intense skirmish, Ellana extended her hand and directed her energy towards freeing a figure trapped in the ice, one the Hakkonites seemed to be leeching energy from before they’d fallen. 

When the ice cracked open, Ellana found, to her shock, an elven male with the tattooed face of a Dalish, who was maybe twenty years older than herself and in mage garb, kneeling and blinking as if he’d just awoken from a long slumber. He wore the symbols of both the Seekers of Truth and the Inquisition on his armor. _Could it be_? 

Then, he looked at her, and, having made similar deductions himself, smiled. “Inquisitor.”

Ellana bowed her head in response, her pulse racing. “Inquisitor.”

Her companions stood silent, dumbfounded. All but Varric, who seemed to be surprised by nothing anymore. He began to weave in and out between the others, patching up the minor wounds sustained and making mental notes that this little escapade would definitely need to be included in his next book.

Ameridan remained kneeling, lacking the strength to stand. “Andaran atish’an. I am glad Drakon’s friendship with our people has remained strong.”

Ellana bit her lip. What news to have to wake up to! But she opted for the truth, out of respect for who he was and what he stood for. “It has not. Drakon’s son, Kordillus the Second, destroyed the Dales.”

Ameridan gripped his staff tighter as he looked down. “Drakon’s son…” His eyes still on the ground, he continued. “How long?”

Cassandra spoke up. “You were the last Inquisitor. There has not been another since you disappeared 800 years ago. Not till now.”

Ameridan looked up, a shocked expression on his face. “Drakon was my oldest friend. He would have sent someone to find me.”

Dorian replied gently, “I’m afraid Drakon was a little busy with the Darkspawn pouring down from the Anderfels.”

“I see.” Ameridan’s face fell. “Telana escaped the battle. Did she…” he stopped himself. _Of course she was dead_. “Do the records say what became of her?”

Ellana sighed. How she longed to give him some comfort, some sense that some good had come from all this. “She returned to the Island,” she replied truthfully. “From what we can tell, she…died trying to reach you though dreams.”

Ameridan frowned. “I told her not to. She was a good hunter and the love of my life, but she never…” His voice trailed off before he pinned Ellana with his eyes. “I never wanted this job. Hunting demons was so much simpler than politics.”

Ellana smirked. She knew all too well the perils of dealing with Orlais, Ferelden, and the Chantry. But Cassandra could no longer keep the question on everyone’s mind from her lips. “Inquisitor Ameridan,” she asked, her eyes flicking towards the staff in his hands, “how can the leader of the Seekers be a mage?”

Ameridan’s eyes flashed. “Has history forgotten _so_ much? I was not a Seeker myself, as most Inquisitors were. I used my magical gifts in the hunting of demons and maleficarum.” He tilted his head questioningly. “Do the Seekers no longer welcome the aid of mages?”

Cassandra looked down sadly. “No. That was forgotten…among many other things.”

Ellana screwed up her courage, determined to redeem themselves in Ameridan’s eyes. “Cassandra is a Seeker…and after the Seekers went rogue, she discovered the truth about them.”

Cassandra spoke up again. “We learned they developed the rite of Tranquility.”

“You mean sundering one from the Fade?” asked Ameridan. “The Seekers do it briefly when granting an initiate their abilities.”

Ellana got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Still Cassandra soldiered on. “It has become a way to control mages deemed dangerous. They are left Tranquil. _Permanently _.”__

__Ameridan sighed, and all at once it seemed that he looked wearier. “Killing a man is ugly work. You learn not to look at it as your first recourse.” He paused. “But sundering them from the Fade is easy. Bloodless.” He shook his head. “I told them spreading such a ‘solution’ would lead to abuse. They swore that would never happen.” He gripped his staff tightly and growled, “They _promised_.”_ _

__Ellana’s voice broke as a tear rolled down her cheek. “ _Ir abelas_. Cassandra will rebuild the Seekers into an organization to be proud of again…with the Inquisition’s help.”_ _

__Ameridan’s voice rumbled softly, “Then you have my thanks.” He paused momentarily as he gazed at the assembly before him, so much like his own had been. “Do not blame yourself, _Lethallan_. Nor you, Seeker. All this betrayal…happened long before you were born. But…despite all this, I have hope. In you.” He smiled. “I was a good hunter. I never wanted to lead an organization. But Drakon told me I was needed…” He looked pointedly at the glow emanating from Ellana’s hand and raised his eyebrow. “…as I suspect _you_ were needed.”_ _

__Ellana wiggled her fingers and smirked. “Oh, it hasn’t been _all_ bad.” _ _

__Ameridan snorted. “I am glad to hear it, and sorry to burden you with my unfinished business…” He pointed above his head at the dragon who lingered, frozen in time and suspended in midair. “This dragon carries the spirit of an Avvar God. I lacked the strength to kill it. My own magic was able to bind us all, locked in time. But when the Cultists drew that spirit into another vessel, it disrupted my bindings.” His breathing became labored and his skin grew increasingly ashen. “It…is breaking…free.”_ _

__Ellana smiled at him reassuringly. “I’m already fighting one would-be God. I can make time for one more.”_ _

__Ameridan returned the gesture. “Then, I leave the world in good hands.”_ _

__Ellana’s eyes widened. “ _Leave_? But we have so much to learn from you, and I-” her voice trembled, “Inquisitor, you are the _only_ other person in existence who knows how this feels. Please. Don’t go,” she pleaded. _ _

__He sighed sadly. “The passage of years can be delayed, but not ignored. I will soon join Telana at Andraste’s side.” He paused for a moment, then slowly got to his feet and extended his staff out to Ellana, with it’s handle facing her. “Take this. It holds the last few memories of an old hunter that was neither as wise nor as strong as he thought._ _

__Ellana grasped the staff and bowed her head respectfully._ _

__Ameridan fell to his knees, bereft of his remaining strength. “Fight well, Inquisitor. I am honored to have met you.”_ _

__Inquisitor Lavellan could only watch helplessly as her predecessor crumbled into dust. With his death, the dragon awoke with a great cry and, ignoring them, burst through the ceiling of the temple, seemingly set on bringing destruction to the Frostback Basin. Dodging falling chunks of stone, Ellana and her companions raced for the exit and pursued Hakkon, following his unholy shriek that split the night._ _

__

____

~~~

The lake they’d crossed by boat just earlier that day was frozen nearly solid, and accompanying the ominous flap of dragon wings above was a voice. “Lowlanders! I am the breath of winter, the cold wind of war! Join me in battle and die!” 

Hakkon Wintersbreath was waiting for them.

“ _Wonderful_. It speaks,” Ellana groaned. 

“Very polite of him to introduce himself,” Dorian remarked.

There was a skittering sound on the ice, and everyone briefly turned their attention away from the giant talking dragon God to see what it was. “Where did those dragonlings come from? He _just_ woke up! Cassandra exclaimed. “He can’t have already-”

“More weird shit,” interrupted Varric, running his finger through his hair and shaking his head. He turned to Tramp and scratched behind the mabari pup’s ears. “Better sit this one out, buddy. Head back to camp, we’ll see you there.” Tramp took off like a shot and Varric readied Bianca for battle.

“Yes, things stopped making sense a long time ago,” sighed Ellana, as she hopped from chunk to chunk of ice so she could have a better angle on Hakkon. “Let’s focus on the task at hand.”

Flames gathered at Dorian’s fingertips. “Dragon killing. Did I forget to mention that I _hate_ dragons?” He fired off a spell that sent the dragonlings scattering.

“I don’t think you mentioned it today,” replied Ellana. With a grunt of effort, she fired off a lightning bolt that seemed to catch Hakkon off guard. He flew up into the air and began to circle.

“Well,” Dorian said, as his Wall of Fire neatly intercepted, and melted, and incoming ice ball from Hakkon, “I still hate them. Why do you insist on bringing me along on your monster-killing crusades?”

“Because I _loooooooove_ you?” Ellana teased. “Honestly, Dorian. It’s not like I woke up this morning planning to fight a dragon God.”

“Will you two shut up?” Cassandra yelled. “I am trying to concentrate!”

“Dragon-killing is in your blood, Seeker,” Varric said. “You should be able to do this in your sleep!”

“For your information, the _banter_ keeps me from wetting myself and running in terror,” snapped Dorian. “Would you rather have urine-flavored dragon food or a fire-wielding mage with a distinct combat advantage over this beast?”

“Point taken!” Cassandra rolled out of the way just before Hakkon landed on the ice. “Call it, Inquisitor!”

Ellana scanned Hakkon’s massive form. She could see that he had a gash on his front right leg, and was also missing a claw. Ameridan must have injured him before casting his spell. “Front right leg!”

“You know the drill, people. Avoid his breath however possible!” Cassandra called out to the others. They all drew near and focused their attention on the injured leg. It was a sound strategy until Hakkon took off and hovered above them.

“Andraste’s flaming knickers, what is that bastard doing?” asked Varric. 

Hakkon opened his mouth, and ice crystals began to shoot down on them. Cassandra dove into Varric, and together they slid across the ice and landed in a snow bank.

“Thanks?” Varric said, getting to his feet.

“Don't mention it,” Cassandra replied, as she brushed snow off of her tabard.

“Fight me!” the dragon mocked from above.

Ellana chugged a healing potion and opened up a fade rift, hoping to inflict enough damage to Hakkon to knock him out of the air. The rift tore scales from the dragon’s back and he screamed in anger: her gambit worked. When he landed, he was greeted with a fireball from Dorian that sizzled the newly exposed skin to a crisp.

“Are you all right, Inquisitor?” asked Cassandra as she hurried back into position.

Ellana turned to the Seeker. Frost had turned the spiky hair on her head into stiff little icicles. “Do I _look_ like I’m alright?”

The battle went on longer than most dragon hunts did. Only the mighty Highland Ravager of Emprise du Lion could compare with Hakkon’s ferocity and tenacity. By the time Ellana stood victorious, both Dorian and Varric had been rendered unable to battle, and Cassandra was licking her wounds.

“Am I... _dead_?” mumbled Dorian as he lay face down on the ice. “You didn’t tell me the Fade would be so cold!”

“Don't dramatize, Sparkler,” said Varric as Cassandra helped him to his feet.

“Said the novelist,” Dorian retorted, shaking the snow from his hair after Ellana pulled him up.

They were interrupted by a crunching sound from behind. It was Harding, who met them with an impressed grin. “I’ve never gotten to see you take down a dragon in person,” she said breathlessly. “I must say,” she continued, as she approached the giant corpse, “it’s fun to see it up close.”

Ellana smiled, and noticed and arrow sticking out of Hakkon’s eye. Bianca fired bolts. That meant that Harding herself must have gotten a few shots in as well. “Perhaps this calls for a new title. Dragonslayer Harding, perhaps?”

Harding smirked. “A fancy title goes against the point of being a scout. _Nobody_ should see me coming.” She turned serious. “Inquisitor Ameridan would have been proud that you finished what he started. It’s strange. History forgot so much about who he was. They never knew he died saving everyone.” She looked Ellana in the eye. “Do _you_ ever feel that way?”

“Right now, half of Thedas would recognize me on sight,” Ellana replied with a sardonic grin. 

Harding nodded. “Right, but they see The _Inquisitor_ , this larger-than-life figure. Every time you’re 'more than just a person' to someone, you’re also less than a person to them.” She turned and looked at Hakkon again. “They don’t know that a real normal woman fought the Avvar and killed that dragon.” Then she spun to face Ellana with a twinkle in her eye. “And they _certainly_ don’t know about your strange fixation with Elfroot.”

Ellana chuckled and shook her finger at Harding, pretending to be stern. “My feelings for Elfroot are _classified_ , Scout Harding.”

Harding laughed. “I’ll carry your secret to my pyre.” Then, she reached out and squeezed Ellana’s hand in hers. “For what it’s worth…nice work, Lavellan.”

~~~

Before she readied to leave, Ellana paid once last visit to the ruins they’d explored with Professor Bram Kenric. Followed by Cassandra and Varric, she tiptoed up the stairs still illuminated by the eerie green Veilfire, approached the dual shrine, and knelt in reverence. A tiny light, stimulated by the presence of Ameridan’s staff, rose from the shrine and burst, revealing a hidden message that he left behind.

“I prepare now for my final battle against this dragon of the Avvar. All is in place. I offer thanks to Ghilan’hain, Halla-Mother, and to Andraste, Maker-Bride. As you were raised up from mortal men to stand with our Creators, our Makers, so raise me up now to defend this world.”

“Inquisitor Ameridan, who helped bring the Inquisition into the Chantry, built a shrine for the Maker _and_ the Elven Gods,” Cassandra whispered in awe.

 

“Belief is a funny thing,” Varric concurred, “An elven Inquisitor must have had a careful path to walk.” He paused thoughtfully as he gazed at Ellana. “Still does, I suppose.”

 

Ellana rose to her feet, head still bowed. “He may have been right,” she murmured. “Why _not_ both?”

 

“Inquisitor Lavellan,” Cassandra spoke up in a hopeful voice, “Are you saying what I _think_ you’re saying?”

 

Ellana raised her head, squared her shoulders, and turned to face them. Her violet eyes glimmered intensely as the Veilfire flickered in their reflection. “I’m saying that just one side doesn’t have the straight line on the truth. But Ameridan, he was with the Seekers of Truth back when that _meant_ something.” She tilted her head. “No offense, Cassandra.”

“None taken,” the Seeker replied. “I left them, remember?”

Ellana looked at the shrine one last time. “There may yet be more I can learn from his example. Perhaps he had the right idea…”

~~~

That night, the Avvar held a great feast in Ellana’s honor, and formally adopted her as a kinswoman. They would not let her leave for Skyhold until she’d judged their holdbeast. It was ultimately decided that the bear, Storvacker, would join the Inquisition as an agent. 

She may have been a little drunk at the time she made that decision.

It was the following morning when Josephine pressed a letter into Ellana’s hand before taking her leave from the War Room. Leliana and Morrigan had already taken their leave. Only Cullen lingered. Ellana took a deep breath and stared at the floor before stuffing Josephine’s message into her pocket. “I know what you’re thinking, but hear me out.”

“How can you know what I’m thinking when you haven’t seen or spoken to me in two weeks?” Cullen murmured.

Ellana laughed bitterly. “I _know_ you, Cullen.”

“The girl, Sigrid. She—” he began.

“I didn’t listen to you. I made a judgment call that you were fundamentally opposed to, but I stand by it.”

“Ellana—”

“It doesn’t mean that I don’t love or respect you, it’s just that—”

“Ellana—”

“Thedas must change if we are to survive. The old ways just don’t—”

Cullen silenced her with a brief but torrid kiss, then released her, whispering her name once more as he ran his fingers gently through her hair before taking a step back.

“ _What_?” Ellana squeaked, her eyes wide with surprise.

“You—you were right.” Cullen lowered his eyes and rubbed at a spot on the tabletop with his fingertips. “I don’t know if what Sigrid is, or what she can do can…translate to the other mages of Thedas, but in her case…you were right.”

For a moment, she was taken aback. Her lips moved but made no sound. It was her turn to lower her eyes. “You were right, too.”

Cullen looked up, and Ellana walked closer to him, finally resting her head on his chest. “I’ve decided to convert to Andrastianism.”

He gasped.

“Sort of,” she clarified. “I met Inquisitor Ameridan.” 

Cullen hardly batted an eye. With Ellana, anything was possible.

“He was an elf,” she continued, “like me. He revered both the elven Gods and Andraste.” She felt his chin tap her shoulder as he nodded, signaling for her to continue. “He was a mage and he was with the Seekers. His whole life was devoted to the truth, Cullen. There was…I think he was onto something. I’ve been reading the Canticle of Shartan—”

“That’s _Dissonant_.” Though she couldn’t see it, she knew he was smiling.

“Not for long, if Cassandra, Leliana, and I have our way,” Ellana replied matter-of-factly. She stood on tiptoe and kissed Cullen softly before taking his hands in hers. “Come. Let’s go to bed. It’s been long enough.”

Cullen smirked. “If you insist.” Then he swept Ellana into a bridal carry and absconded with her to her chambers.

~~~

Late that night, after Cullen had fallen asleep, Ellana retrieved the correspondence she’d received from Josephine.

“Dear Lady Montiliyet,

Sigrid Gulsdotten was a delight! Such a fresh perspective! True, the evening threatened to go poorly when the Avvar mage and magister Verixsus bickered over the proper use of spirit bindings, but she brought down the house during a practical demonstration of spheric energy projections! (Both figuratively and very nearly literally. Quite invigorating!) I cannot tell you how gratifying it was to see all the old goats from the Ferelden circles outdone by an Avvar. We must have her back. Also, I believe Verixsus invited her to his summer villa. 

All the best, dear! 

Countess Fleche"

Ellana smiled to herself and extinguished the bedside light.


	11. The Divine Mrs. Rutherford

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Ellana get married in Val Royeaux. There are complications.

“Surprise!” Cullen said with a nervous laugh.

Ellana just stared at him.

“Are you angry?” he asked, a little afraid of the answer.

She continued to stare at him from across the dining table in the Herald’s Rest. Ellana hadn’t even blinked yet, which was worrisome, not to mention the fact that the tips of her ears were bright red - a surefire warning sign, just shy of shooting lightning out of her body.

“I think it’s safe to say, Curly,” Varric leaned back in his chair from another table and said, “that is a _yes_.”

Ellana blew her bangs out of her face, rolled her eyes, and drank more wine.

Cullen tried to reason with her, but after the long day, and her unexpected reticence, his nerves were raw. He ended up coming off nervous and a little histrionic. “Look, I know you’re busy. Maker’s Breath, I’m busy too! But we keep waiting and soon that babe of ours is going to crawl out of you while we’re standing at the altar!”

Ellana sighed, then pulled a leather journal out of her pocket. “ _When_ did you say it was?”

“Sunday,” Cullen answered.

“Which Sunday?” she asked matter-of-factly.

“This Sunday, Sugar Lips!” Cullen ruffled her hair playfully.

Ellana batted at his hand like a cat would a small toy, but her lips were curling into a smile. “Well,” she said, closing the journal and looking into her Commander’s eyes, “I suppose I can make it. What do I have to do?”

“Just wear the dress and show up,” answered Cullen. The knot in his stomach had loosened considerably, and now he was able to start eating his dinner again.

“That’s it?” Ellana asked, raising an eyebrow dubiously.

Cullen nodded and swallowed his bouillabaisse. “All the arrangements have been made. Consider it Josephine’s wedding present to us.”

“Oh, Josie!” Ellana sighed with a smile. “We should get her something nice in appreciation for all her hard work.”

“Traditionally, it’s the Bride and Groom who get all the gifts,” Cullen replied.

“But what about all the people who made it happen?” Ellana asked, “What of them?”

Cullen shrugged. “They get to stand back and watch the magic unfold.” They fell silent for a few moments while Ellana resumed eating, but then Cullen remembered something. “Oh, you probably want to pack tonight.”

Ellana looked up from her bowl and narrowed her eyes at Cullen. “ _Why_?”

“The trip to Val Royeaux,” Cullen answered, gritting his teeth a little. “It will take a few days to make the journey and we’ll want to get there early for all the… _festivities_.” He trailed off. This was going to be his least favorite part, he just knew it. Why can’t Orlesian weddings be more simple? The elaborateness of the affair was looking to rival, if not eclipse, King Alistair’s marriage to Lady Cousland. But then again, Alistair and Elissa were Fereldan royalty.

Ellana, much to his chagrin, belonged to all of Thedas.

~~~

Josephine leaned back in her clawfoot bathtub and closed her eyes. In the other room, she could hear Leliana sweetly singing “The Girl in Red Crossing.” As she listened, she wondered whether she and Leliana would be able to continue their relationship when, or if, her lover were to become the next Divine. Typically, the Divine was to be celibate, taking no lovers, although Leliana had some very different ideas about which rules she would choose to follow. Barring all of that, what would her family say? In all likelihood, they expected to marry her off to the highest bidder so as to continue to rebuild the Montilyet fortune. If she married Leliana, would the Chantry pay her dowry?

These were questions that needed to be asked. But, as Leliana slipped one alabaster leg and then the other into the tub, then settled into Josephine’s lap, she found herself uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

“Out with it,” Leliana said, as she leaned back and rested her head on Josephine’s shoulder. “You can’t fool _me_ , Josie.”

“ _How_ did you-” She needn't have asked. Leliana would always find out.

“Your breathing was not steady, and you were doing that thing where you tap your teeth with your fingernails.”

“I was?” Josephine raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“You were,” Leliana said with a nod. “Josie, you _really_ must work on your tells. You may fool the diplomats, but you cannot fool a bard.”

The Lady Ambassador took a deep breath and sighed. “The wedding is in a couple of days.”

“And? The arrangements have all been made, there’s little more to do than simply showing up at this point. Besides,” Leliana turned slightly and cupped Josie’s cheek in her hand, “this is a happy occasion. I thought you _loved_ weddings!”

“It just makes me think about my family. What am I going to do about them? About _us_? What if you become the Divine?” Josie’s voice began to quaver with emotion and she closed her eyes tightly. “I don’t know if my heart can take this.”

Leliana sighed and, turning to face Josie again, pecked her eyelids, flashing her a brilliant smile. “You just let me and Ellana worry about that, all right?” She kissed her tenderly, then whispered against her lips. “For once, you don’t have to do _anything_.” Then she righted herself and reclined again. “Just sit back and watch the magic unfold.”

~~~

Bull heaved the last of Dorian’s many trunks onto the back of the carriage. Dorian began to tie the luggage down so it would not slip off and fall into the road should the vehicle need to pick up speed. “So,” he said, almost, but not quite mumbling, “there is no marriage in the Qun. Is… _fidelity_ a foreign concept for your people?”

Bull stopped what he was doing and turned to Dorian. “Not necessarily. I haven’t been with anyone else since I’ve been with you, if _that’s_ what you’re asking.”

“Oh.” Dorian was surprised to find that he was blushing. “I’m…flattered.”

“Well,” Bull said as he shrugged, “I love you. Is _that_ a foreign concept?”

Dorian smiled bitterly. “More than you can imagine, Bull.”

“I can imagine a _lot_ ,” Bull countered, resting his hand on his lover’s shoulder. “You know how I grew up. At least _you_ had parents. I had-”

“Tamassrans, I know.”

“So,” Bull said as he climbed inside the carriage and held his hand out to Dorian, “you had to jump through hoops for people to love you. Welcome to reality.”

“That’s rather harsh, don’t you think?” Dorian asked.

“Not really. You’re mistaking empathy for callousness. I know how you feel, Dorian. You’re just…not as unique as you’d like to think.”

Dorian snorted as he took a seat opposite Bull. “Hmph,” he grunted before looking out the window and changing the subject, “he’s late. Where _is_ he?”

Bull chuckled. “I set the kid up.”

Dorian went pale. “You _didn’t_.”

Bull sat back on the comfortable seat and stretched. “Yup. Figured it was time Cole had his rite of passage, as it were.”

“Does the girl know he’s…you know, not _alive_?”

Bull stared at Dorian. “He’s as alive as you or me.” He shrugged, “Sure, the kid’s a little weird, but…he has a good heart.”

“Does it beat, though?”

“Only one way to find out,” Bull said with a smirk.

Cole opened the carriage door and took a seat next to Dorian. “Hello, Dorian. Hello, The Iron Bull.” He yawned.

“Rough night, kid?” Bull asked, poking Cole gently in the chest with barely restrained anticipation. “So…how was Candy? You two have a good time?

Cole smiled warmly. “Yes. She danced. Then I untangled the hurt that made her angry at her mother.”

There was an extended silence as both Bull and Dorian stared at Cole, mouths slightly agape. Cole didn’t seem to notice. It was as if he had given them space for any questions they may have wanted to ask. When no one spoke up, Cole helpfully continued. “I helped her write a letter to send back home. She said I could call her Marguerite, that the name didn't hurt anymore.”

Dorian snorted as he tried to suppress his laughter, but when he looked at Bull shaking his head and scratching his horns, he exploded in a torrent of giggles.

Bull rolled his eyes and smiled at Cole before knocking the boy’s hat off with a mere flick of his thick fingers and tousling his flaxen hair affectionately. “Well, that was five royals well-spent.”

~~~

It was dusk by the time the Inquisition arrived at Halamshiral, but the happy couple were still expected to dine with Empress Celene and her lover, Marquise Briala. Her Imperial Majesty was fascinated and regaled with tales of the Avvar, while Briala was deeply moved by Ellana’s account of meeting Inquisitor Ameridan and the slaying of Hakkon Wintersbreath.

“Once again, Inquisitor Lavellan, it appears that Orlais is in your debt,” Celene said as she subtly genuflected.

Briala immediately got down to brass tacks, as she was wont to do. “But what of Corypheus? How goes your pursuit?”

Cullen laid his hand over the hand Ellana was politely resting on her thigh, and spoke for her. “Her Imperial Majesty’s occult advisor, Lady Morrigan, is tracking him right now. She’s narrowed her search down to the Arbor Wilds, but more than that I have not been made aware of.”

Briala nodded, while Celene watched Ellana keenly in the flickering candlelight. “Inquisitor, you must be tired from your long journey. The rehearsal and pre-wedding banquet are tomorrow.” The ghost of a smile passed across her features as she continued, “You will have to be well rested if you are going to survive a formal Orlesian wedding.”

Briala smirked, “That means that if you are _wise_ , you will use your bed for _sleeping_ ,” she made pointed eye contact with Cullen, who gulped. “And _nothing_ else.”

Smiling mildly, Ellana replied, “But of course, Lady Briala. I wouldn’t _dream_ ~~~

Cullen’s hand was over Ellana’s mouth when she cried out, but he was less prepared for his own climax than he’d thought, and he groaned loudly soon after. Ellana nibbled his fingers playfully. “Kinda defeats the purpose of my being quiet, don’t you think?”

Cullen blushed even as he grinned bashfully, then he slid his hands down her sides and tickled her mercilessly. “I never thought I’d hear Orlesians tell someone _not_ to have sex,” he said with a chuckle.

“I don’t know,” Ellana said as she rolled to her side and bit her lip in consternation. “Maybe all the festivities are _really_ exhausting. We should get to sleep.”

Cullen spooned her and playfully bit her shoulder. “I’m Fereldan. I can take _anything_ those Orlesians can dish out.” He leaned forward slightly and nibbled her earlobe. “We can sleep when we’re dead.”

~~~

Ellana ground her forehead into the pristine tablecloth. “Creators, _why_ do I listen to you?”

“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” Cullen mumbled sheepishly.

“Consider yourself lucky that I _am_ talking to you,” she snapped. Ellana stared despairingly at her breakfast, her stomach empty, yet repulsed; nauseous from the lack of sleep. She poked at it apprehensively with what she hoped was the proper fork.

Cullen, his nerves raw with exhaustion, perused the itinerary that a bright-eyed Josephine had helpfully left in their possession just minutes before. “Let’s see…there is to be a wedding tournament-”

“Tournament?” Ellana asked without raising her head from the table, nor the pitch of her voice customary at the end of questions.

“Yes,” Cullen murmured as he waited for his eyes to focus properly before continuing, “jousting and whatnot, it seems.”

“To the death?” She was finally looking up, eyes wide.

Cullen stared at her until a hot blush spread to her cheeks. “No, my little barbarian. It’s not to the death.” He looked more closely at the parchment, squinting. Sometimes, Josephine’s handwriting was so flowery as to be illegible. “At least I don’t _think_ so.”

Ellana gave him a sidelong glance. “It’s bad luck for people to die at your wedding… _isn’t_ it?”

Cullen smiled crookedly and laid his hand reassuringly over hers. “You have nothing to worry about. Even if someone dies during the tournament, it will be a day or so before the actual wedding ceremony takes place.”

The pair leaned closer together as they scanned the list of events. Tonight, there would be an opera. The next, a ball. On the third day, the tournament would take place, while on the evening of the fourth day, the Groom’s Party would transpire. The wedding ceremony itself would not come about until the fifth day.

“Orlesians,” Cullen grumbled.

~~~

_The opera…_

…recently composed in honor of Marquise Briala, told a somewhat romanticized version of her life’s story, if a smirking Leliana was to be believed. Every time something was exaggerated or simply fabricated, Ellana could see her shoulders shake with barely suppressed laughter. Which was often. By contrast, Josephine was starstruck; apparently the role of the Marquise was being played by her favorite mezzo-soprano, a controversial choice, seeing as though mezzos usually played male roles. However, despite the lady ambassador’s breathless, unbridled, and well-meaning enthusiasm, her constant turning around and explaining every unfamiliar convention to the two barbarian guests of honor was less than helpful. For what it was worth, Ellana found herself tearing up at the end of Act 2, when Briala turned against Celene, accusing her of having a role in the murder of her parents, thus dragging out the Orlesian Civil War. Untold political tumult was a mere plot device in service of the greater love story unfolding before them. “Shemlen…” she murmured under her breath, then, as she accidentally caught a glimpse of Cullen’s unexpectedly tear-filled eyes, squeezed his hand. Cullen give her an awkward little smile, leaned over and whispered in her ear, “If only for the music…I’m glad you chose them.”

Ellana softly kissed the corner of his mouth and chuckled to herself. She’d been so wrapped up in Inquisition business that she’d forgotten his fondness for music. Indeed, the songs had made such an impression of him, that he was often heard humming their melodies for days thereafter.

Cullen took her hand, and, when he felt the tears escaping from his eyes, hurriedly wiped them away with his other hand. He thought back on the time they’d sung together at Skyhold, their voices entwining, echoing their hearts, echoing their desire for each other. He smiled to himself. Despite all the hardships and the struggle, he found himself… _glad_ that things had unfolded the way they’d had. Had he never been a Templar, had he never fled to Kirkwall to escape the nightmares of his past at the Fereldan Circle, he would never have met her, and would not be here to experience this bliss. And if she had never picked up that orb, never suffered the separation from her clan, never fought to prove herself worthy of being the Inquisitor, she would not be here to share it with him.

~~~

_The ball…_

…brought back memories of when Ellana had made her formal “debut” as the Inquisitor in Orlais as a guest of the now-quite deceased Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons. The Grand Ballroom retained it’s lovely golden hues and was scrubbed clean of all signs of bloodshed. The splashes of crimson were now replaced with the wedding colors lavender and green, which bedecked everything in the place that stood still.

In the short amount of time since the Orlesian Civil War had concluded, many of Celene’s new policies were made evident. For one thing, as many elves graced the dance floor as those did that served the guests. Ellana smirked. _Well played, Briala. Well played._

The Empress had been giving a speech lauding the work of the Inquisition in general, masterfully weaving in the story of Cullen and Ellana’s love affair against the backdrop of war, chaos, and impossible odds like a skillful bard. So, when the time came for the happy couple to make their own brief speech, all of Halamshiral erupted into enthusiastic applause. Cullen could scarcely hear himself think, and he ground his teeth in anticipation of the headache he was sure would soon come. Feeling her lover stiffen nervously beside her, Ellana slid her hand around his back and gently squeezed him at the waist. Beneath her fingertips, she felt Cullen exhale deeply. Ellana’s heart leapt. She knew how much he hated these affairs, and yet, he went through with them anyway. For _her_.

Oh, how he _hated_ being put on display! And yet, Cullen found himself blocking out the gawking crowds to focus on her. He took her hand and slid his other hand onto the small of her back. To the Void with them all! All that mattered was that Ellana was with him, swaying in his grip to the music, looking for all the world like a princess-no, a Goddess, eyes shining with love that was only for him. The tension in his body melted, giving way to gratitude, to peace.

~~~

_The tournament…_

…nearly bored Ellana to tears, and she couldn’t help but feel at least some small amount of resentment. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, battle had become her life, fighting horrors that these nobles and holiday warriors could only conjure in their worst nightmares. She saw no logic in fights as entertainment, and yet there she was, handing out wreaths to the winners like some sort of pageant queen. Though Josephine had explained to Ellana that for the Orlesians, an invitation to judge a tournament in one’s own honor was of the highest of compliments, she was beginning to become overwhelmed with the elaborate performance that was her wedding ceremony. Couldn’t the Empress do it? Ellana sighed and scuffed the toe of her boot against the wooden floor of the VIP section, hoping that no one would notice her slumbering if she should be so lucky.

Cullen leaned over and surreptitiously licked the shell of her ear. “You seem unmoved, Vhenan.” When he was sure he’d gotten her attention, he continued, “how about we make this interesting?” He reached between Ellana’s legs and slowly pulled the fabric of her robes up until he had exposed her thighs. Then, chuckling deep in his throat, he slid his fingers beneath her smalls and pressed his fingertips to her pearl. “Every time a Fereldan competitor wins a bout…”

Ellana’s cheeks flushed and she grinned back at him mischievously. Perhaps this would not be so bad after all…

~~~

_The Groom’s party…_

…found Leliana and her agents in constant contact with various attendees of Cullen’s party. There had been a threat on the Commander's life, and the Inquisition's Spymaster wasn't taking any chances. After all, one cannot have a wedding without a groom and Josephine had worked too hard for this all to come to pass only to be thwarted now. Of course Leliana would also be appropriately sad were Cullen to meet an unfortunate end. After all, how else would she be able to tease him about his tendency to try to punch his way through everything?

"I don't need a bodyguard," Cullen huffed as he hastily fastened the last of the brass buttons of his dress uniform jacket. "This is _ridiculous_!"

"Nonsense," chuckled Leliana as she leaned against the wall and mentally critiqued the Commander's choice of "party" clothes. "Ellana would never forgive me if anything happened to you!"

Cullen rolled his eyes. "Nothing is going to happen," he grumbled. "I can take care of myself!"

Leliana stood and crossed the room so that she could reach up and straighten Cullen's collar. "You shouldn't have to be on high alert _all_ the time." She grasped him by the shoulders and gently but firmly turned him to face her. "Just this once, let yourself have a little fun."

Cullen sighed. "I never understood the point of these bachelor parties."

The Spymaster tilted her head thoughtfully. "It's your last night as an unmarried man. Tradition dictates that you... _indulge_ yourself...in ways that you cannot after marriage. That way, you can have no regrets."

"There is nothing that I regret, Leliana, that can be fixed in just one night," Cullen said matter-of-factly. "Certainly nothing that can be alleviated by drunken debauchery."

Leliana searched his eyes with deepening curiosity. "What about Ellana? Is there anything you need to...resolve before you commit yourself fully to her as her husband?"

Cullen was silent for a long time. Then his eyes lit up. It wasn't the merry light of the sun that his eyes brought forth, but the melancholy glow of the moon. "Neria," he whispered. "You weren't at Kinloch Hold, but...surely you _know_ -"

The Spymaster nodded sadly. "It was a massacre. Elissa told me about it when she returned to camp. She was... _deeply_ troubled by the experience. It was why she petitioned King Alistair to free the mages of Ferelden."

Cullen shuddered at the mention of the Queen's name. Even after all this time, the very thought of her triggered something in him he couldn't put into words. He took a deep breath to compose himself before continuing, "I lost many friends. I...lost someone very special to me." He broke eye contact with Leliana. It was too painful to even look at another living person as he spoke. "I was in no condition to go to her funeral, I never got to say goodbye, I...want to...no," he shut his eyes in an effort to stop the tears from coming. "I need to _let her go_."

"I could help with that," piped up a quiet, unassuming voice. 

Cullen spun around to face the door, hurriedly wiping his eyes. "Maker's Breath, Cole! Don't you knock?"

"Not _really_ , no," Cole answered.

Leliana held a single slim finger aloft. "I have an idea. _Neria_...it is an elven name, isn't it?"

"Yes," Cullen said as he sat down, running his large hands over his face and tangling his fingers in his hair. "Neria Surana. She was from Lothering."

Leliana's eyes widened for a moment as she recalled the elven family, all with red hair, who had been robbed by bandits and how Elissa had gone out of her way to help them. She hoped that somehow, like Hawke's family, that they had been able to evade the darkspawn as well. Leliana smiled bitterly and muttered, "It appears that the Maker is not without a sense of irony." Meeting Cullen's eyes, she continued. "Come. Cullen, Cole. Let's go to the garden."

~~~

It had been a long time, but the song was never far from her mind. It echoed through her thoughts whenever she remembered her mother and though it was sad, she always found that it gave her solace. She hoped it would help Cullen release his regrets and finally heal.

"Hahren an melana sahlin, Emma ir abelas. Souver'inan isala hamin, Vhenan him dor'felas. In uthenera na revas."

As instructed by Cole, Cullen closed his eyes and the boy took his hand. "She loved you, but she did not blame you, even as she was dying," Cole began. "Neria was headstrong and thanks to Irving, a little overconfident in her abilities."

"Vir sulahn'nehn, Vir dirthera, Vir samahl la numin, Vir 'lath sa'vunin'."

Cullen listened as Cole and Leliana's voices washed over him, their voices weaving in and out perfectly. "It wasn't your fault, Cullen. You did everything you could have done and more. It was First Enchanter Irving and Knight-Commander Greagoir who failed by not recognizing the blood Mage in their midst, but you _know_ this. In _here_." Cole reached up and gently tapped Cullen's right temple. "You need to untangle it _here_ ," he said, placing his hand over the Commander's heart. "I want to help. Look into my eyes..."

"Vir sulahn'nehn...

He remembered the first time he saw her; short scarlet hair glistening in the sun as she tucked a stray lock behind her ear...

Vir dirthera...

He remembered her gentleness and patience with him as she slyly pursued his affections...

Vir samahl la numin...

He heard her voice one last time: "Ar lasa mala revas, Cullen Rutherford." Cullen could hear her smiling, "Mala suledin nadas. Dareth shiral."

Vir 'lath sa'vunin'..."

He hadn't forgotten her, as he had feared he would. Instead, sorrow and regret melted and gave way to peace. Blinking away tears, Cullen pulled Cole into a fierce embrace. "Thank you," he whispered.

Leliana leaned against a nearby birch tree and smiled.

~~~

"Dirth!" Ellana giggled before catching the wrathful eye of Sera. Feeling charitable, she cleared her throat and corrected herself. "Truth!"

The Inquisitor was under strict orders not to drink, and, as such, she was being closely supervised by Cassandra, who was doing much of the drinking in her stead. Still, Ellana was having so much fun watching everyone around her take leave of their senses, that she found herself in the throes of infectious mirth.

Sera side-eyed her before opening her mouth, only to be interrupted by Dorian. "My love, it's just going to be _another_ sex question. Let me save you the trouble!" He took a long draught off of his accursedly beloved Fereldan beer then added, "No. She hasn't. She did not do it with an elf. She did not do it on a shelf." He punctuated his sentence with a raspberry.

Cassandra chuckled, "Now we _know_ he's drunk!" She slapped the mage good-naturedly on the back, nearly knocking him out of his chair. "Dorian, you're rhyming again. Does Bull need to take you to bed and so you can sleep it off?"

Dorian abruptly swung his head to face her, then to the floor to see his lover, splayed carelessly and passed out cold. " _Somehow_ I think that isn't happening."

"It's not too late to _try_ , Inky." Sera waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Aren't you the least bit curious?"

"She did not do it with her tongue, she did not do it flinging dung..." Dorian continued, not caring whether anyone was listening at this point. "She did not do it with a finger, she ran away and did not linger."

Everyone else fell silent at this point; they all turned towards Dorian in breathless (mostly) drunken anticipation as to how long he could keep going.

"She did not do it with a fist, she did not check that off the list."

Dorian paused, the extent of his knowledge of sex between women being severely tested. "She was not bottom, she was not top, she hasn't done it, so for fuck's sake, _STOP_!" He laid his head on the table, and everyone applauded. 

"What did I miss?" rang out the melodious voice of Ambassador Montilyet.

Josephine entered the room just then to see Dorian, Cassandra, Bull, Lace, Krem, and Sera passed out drunk at the table or the floor and the Inquisitor draped across Cassandra and Dorian's laps, fast asleep.

~~~

Ellana nibbled at her bread and butter while the Empress' servants helped her into her wedding gown, a white confection adorned with sparkling rubies. From the gardens below, she could hear the musicians rehearsing. She felt...uneasier than she thought she should. She had fallen asleep over the inebriated bodies of Cassandra and Dorian, but had somehow awoken in her suite. _Alone_. Cullen had not been seen by the guards or servants assigned to their floor all night. Doubt flirted with her already vulnerable countenance, draining her color so that the servant felt compelled to correct her complexion with rouge to prevent the wedding guests from thinking she'd caught her death. There was a knock at the door.

Noting the flicker of disappointment in her granddaughter's eyes, Keeper Deshanna smirked. "Is that _all_ you have for your grandmother?"

Ellana exhaled with a weary, wary smile. "Hahren, no." She got up from her seat and embraced the Keeper fiercely.

"Vhenan, you hold me so close, you squeeze my tears out," Deshanna sighed. "Are you all right?"

"I've missed you, Hahren. _So_ much!" Ellana exclaimed. The servants quickly dabbed at her eyes so she wouldn't ruin her makeup.

After Ellana released her, Keeper Deshanna leaned against the doorway, her arms crossed. "And where is your wayward fiance?"

From behind, Josephine interjected, "It is Andrastian tradition for the groom not to see his bride until he lifts her veil, Keeper Deshanna."

Ellana's eyes widened sharply. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Josephine looked genuinely confused. "You mean no one _told_ you?"

"My caretakers were a man who loves other men and a Seeker. What do _you_ think?" Ellana asked, raising her eyebrow.

The ambassador rolled her eyes. "Fair enough. Is there anything _else_ you need to know?"

Ellana looked up at Josephine helplessly. "How do I know what I don't know if I don't know what I don't know?"

~~~ 

"Did you bathe?" asked Dorian, lounging on his bed.

"Yes," grunted Cullen as he ran his fingers, coated with straightening salve, through his hair. 

"Shave?"

Cullen shook his head. "She doesn't like it if I shave too often." He stroked the stubble on his cheeks. "Do you think I should?"

Dorian hummed in contemplation. "Well, there are different schools of thought. You are having the wedding at Halamshiral, the seat of power in Orlais. The Inquisition, and by extension, your future wife the Inquisitor, are at the very center of attention of all Thedas. Etiquette dictates that you should groom yourself accordingly."

Cullen raised an eyebrow. "But..."

Dorian slowly looked over and fixed Cullen with his bleary eyes. "This is _her_ day. Even more than it is your day. Do whatever it takes to give her maximum happiness." He shut his eyes again. "Breeches closed?"

Cullen looked down and re-tied the laces of his crisp white breeches. The Empress was kind enough to provide him with a tailor since, while Ellana enjoyed him in uniform, he wanted to marry her not as the Commander of the Inquisition, but as Cullen Rutherford and nothing more. "What would I do without you?" he asked the mage. 

"You wouldn't be getting married, for starters," answered Dorian. "I hope the two of you have the decency to name your first child after me in gratitude."

Cullen nodded. " _If_ we have a son. Dorianne is not a very pretty name."

"You could name her Dorique," Dorian offered.

"Problem solved, then," said Cullen with a wide smile. There was a knock at the door. It was Ellana's twin brother Evariel. He looked so like her, both Cullen and Dorian had to look twice. "The Keeper is ready," he said. 

Cullen gave himself one more once-over in the mirror and was making to leave when Dorian rolled haphazardly off his bed and onto his feet. "What is this all about?"

"It's a surprise for Ellana," Cullen said with a mischievous grin. "We're to have a traditional elven hand-fasting before the Andrastian ceremony."

"So you'll be _double_ -married?" asked Dorian.

"I'll marry her as many times as it takes to make her mine," answered Cullen. Dorian rolled his eyes with a gentle smile and followed the other men out of the room.

~~~

As the sun rose over Halamshiral, Ellana of Clan Lavellan and Cullen Rutherford said their vows in Elven, with Dorian, Leliana, Josephine, Cassandra and Ellana's brother Evariel as witnesses. The ceremony concluded with plenty of time for them to make the Andrastian ceremony at the chapel on the grounds of Halamshiral. The witnesses went on ahead, taking the long way. But the couple, who had chosen a short cut, would need to cross through the palace kitchens in order to reach their ultimate destination and _that_ is where their troubles began.

~~~

The kitchens should not have been empty, not on such a momentous occasion. But empty they were, and silent as the grave.

"Perhaps they have already moved the food to the banquet hall?" asked Ellana.

"Perhaps," replied Cullen. "There's a vegetable platter over there. Someone will probably come back for it shortly."

Just then, the sound of something heavy being scraped across the floor emanated from behind them. Cullen reflexively reached back and tested the door that they had just passed through. 

It was blocked. 

"Well, shit," said Cullen. He grabbed Ellana's hand and had begun to run for the exit ahead when Venatori assassins leapt down from the rafters.

Cullen reached down for his longsword only to realize he didn't have one. Ellana was hesitant to use the Mark or her Stormbringer abilities in such close quarters, especially after the last time she fought at Halamshiral. She paused a moment, then whipped out her Knight-Enchanter Fade sword and turned so that she and Cullen were back to back.

As Ellana began to parry with one rapier-wielding assassin, Cullen reached forward and head-butted another into unconsciousness. He then used his fallen foe as a temporary shield against the poison arrows another assassin released in his direction. Ellana slid to her knees briefly and bisected the archer from groin to gullet, spraying blood every which way. Cullen grabbed the vegetable platter and used it as a makeshift shield, bashing heads, then tossing it into the unsuspecting throat of a Venatori mage, both silencing him and pinning him to the wall. 

The couple had made quick work of their attackers and had just made it to the exit when one last assassin dropped in front of them. Thinking fast, Cullen grabbed a large carrot, shoved it in the rogue's mouth, then punched him there for good measure, sending the vegetable straight through his skull. "Dinner is _served_ ," he said, wiping the blood from his face.

Ellana turned to him, skin glowing and eyes flashing. Immediately he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to a nearby table before lifting up her skirts. "That was _amazing_ ," he growled as he tugged at her smalls with his teeth.

"Cullen," Ellana panted, "the _guests_ -"

"Can _wait_ ," he replied. "I want you _now_."

~~~

A quarter of a bell later there was a commotion at the door. "What is this armoire doing here?" Dorian grunted. "Bull, move the... _thing_!"

Cullen struggled to finish, pumping his hips as fast as possible. "We should stop," murmured Ellana.

He leaned over to capture her lips with his. "Are you _sure_?" He grinned the crooked grin that she could never resist. 

"No," she panted, "but Dorian-"

"Are you two still in there?" Dorian called out. "The guests are getting restless!"

All Dorian and Bull heard in response was the steady rhythm of pots and pans clanging over and over.

Dorian looked at Bull. Bull looked at Dorian and a huge grin split his face. "Boss, are you two _coming_?"

"YES!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part four of a Four Part series. And this nutritious breakfast.


	12. The Bianca Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The woman behind the crossbow is finally revealed.

There had been no time for a honeymoon, despite Leliana's assurances that she, Josephine, and Cassandra could handle Inquisition business for a week or two with Cullen and Ellana away Creators knew where, but the pair were filled with too much anxiety to be able to relax on the sunny beaches of Rivain for that.

Yes, they had spoken of Rivain in the rare moments they had to themselves, gazing out at the horizon from the Inquisitor's balcony. "One orange colored day", Cullen would assure Ellana, they "could walk hand in hand along the glittering coastline." Cullen's actions served more as a reassurance of himself than his new bride, who was taking her freshly minted marital status in stride.

The morning after they'd returned from Orlais, Ellana rounded a corner whistling a jaunty tune when she saw an unusual sight: a dwarven woman. It wasn't unusual to see dwarves in general, or even dwarven females in particular. There was Dagna, Lace, and several guild members of the not-male persuasion bustling about Skyhold on a regular basis.

But...none of them had ever been seen conversing with Varric in such an intimate manner. Yet there she was, hooded, leaning in close, touching Varric intermittently as they spoke. Ellana narrowed her eyes suspiciously and found herself scanning the room for Cassandra. Their demeanor was nothing outwardly inappropriate, yet it was concerning enough that it would likely cause the Seeker some alarm should she stumble upon them, due to her own ambiguous status with the novelist.

Cassandra being fortunately (unfortunately?) absent, Ellana slowly made her approach, trying to look casual.

Varric was wringing his hands in dismay. "...I appreciate the warning, but you shouldn't have come yourself. What if the Guild found out...or whatshisname?"

_Dwarves and their weird shit_ , thought Ellana.

"Are you worrying for me or for yourself?" asked the woman. Her voice sounded like what a stretching cat in front of a bowl of milk would sound like if it could talk; languid and utterly confident. Ellana raised an eyebrow. _Who was this woman_?

"A little of column A, a little of column B," replied Varric, "I _am_ the expendable one after all."

"Aw." The woman's lips formed a mock pout as her eyes twinkled in the shadow. "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

_I have to know_ , thought Ellana, and she picked up the pace to engage the pair.

"We'll just have to-" The woman stopped suddenly when she realized they were no longer alone. She smirked at Ellana and addressed her, "Well, this is a surprise! You're the Inquisitor, right?"

Ellana was about to remark on how utterly unsurprising it would be for the Inquisitor to be found at Inquisition Headquarters, but what the woman said next gave her pause:

"Bianca Davri, at your service."

Ellana blurted out before she could stop herself. "Like the crossbow?"

Bianca smirked again. "It's a common name. Half the girls in the Merchant's Guild are named Bianca." She chuckled. "The other half are named Helga. I lucked out." She shrugged lackadaisically.

The Inquisitor didn't know if Bianca was mocking her or if she was serious. She narrowed her eyes again a little, but tried to keep her next question as innocuous as possible. "I take it you're a friend of Varric's."

The dwarven woman sighed with a lazy smile. "Who _isn't_ a friend of Varric's? You _have_ met him before, right?"

Ellana paused and took a deep breath. _She's a slippery one_. "Any friend of Varric's is welcome here."

"Be careful saying things like that. Some of them you _don't_ want to meet." Bianca smiled again, and Ellana realized that her smiles weren't reaching her eyes. She could feel her Mark begin to crackle.

Bianca glanced briefly at Ellana's clenched fist and flicked her brown eyes back up to meet the elf's violet ones before smirking again. "Well, maybe you do. Who am _I_ to judge?"

Thankfully, Varric stepped in. "Bianca's got a lead on where Corypheus got his red lyrium."

"The site of Bartrand's Folly, the thaig Varric found, has been leaked," Bianca explained. "There's a Deep Roads entrance crawling with strange humans carting out red lyrium by the handful."

Though her experience with Deep Roads travel was limited, Ellana knew Corypheus' pawns couldn't have just wandered into the thaig on their own. "Who could have leaked the location of the thaig?"

Varric piped up. "There were a few people who knew. Hirelings from the expedition, a couple of close friends..."

"How they found out isn't important," interrupted Bianca. "What matters is we know where they are now."

Ellana found herself crossing her arms just like Cullen did when he was feeling impatient. "If it's such a secret, how do _you_ know about it, Bianca?"

Varric spread his hands placatingly. "I told her. Right after the expedition, I wrote and told Bianca what we'd found." He continued, as if he instinctively read Ellana's growing irritation with Bianca's lack of directness in the matter. "I had artifacts that needed buyers and she had more contacts that would pay for them. Plus...I owed her."

The Inquisitor bit her lip in frustration and sighed. "We need to deal with this. As long as he has this source, Corypheus is that much more powerful."

Varric grinned from ear to ear as he turned to Bianca. "I _told_ you she'd come through!"

Bianca nodded and rolled her eyes slightly. "I'll keep an eye on their operation. If you're interested in shutting it down, you've got my help." She turned to Varric, her lips curled into a playful simper. "Try not to leave me waiting too long, Varric. I've got my own work to do, you know!"

Bianca sauntered off towards the exit, just as Cassandra was entering, and the smaller woman shoulder checked the Seeker. Or would have shoulder checked her had their height been comparable. Instead it was more like Cassandra getting punched in the stomach.

"Oof!" grunted Cassandra.

"Oops. _Sorry_ ," mumbled Bianca, who kept walking.

Varric's eyes widened. "Right! That's not going to be trouble at _all_."

Cassandra's eyes turned stormy and she wheeled on her lover, swiftly stalking towards him, fists clenched at her sides. "Varric! Varric, who is that woman and what is she to you?"

Varric retreated towards Solas' quarters and Cassandra followed after him.

Ellana grimaced. If she was going to talk to Dorian about this mess, she'd have to go about it the long way lest she witness another one of Cassandra and Varric's spats. With a heavy sigh, she started to jog towards the courtyard.

~~~

When Ellana found Dorian he was deeply ensconced in the collected memoirs of Emperor Drakon and was _quite_ displeased when she unceremoniously snatched it from his grasp. "It can wait," she hissed in response to the scowl she knew he was making behind her back. "Come with me."

The two of them leaned over the balcony of the library, but whatever had transpired between Varric and Cassandra had passed by the time they'd leant an ear. Dorian nudged Ellana. "What was so important?"

Ellana slid down and sat, leaning against the railing. " _Bianca_."

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "Varric's having firing problems? Just talk to Dagna-"

Ellana shook her head adamantly in the negative. "No, I _met_ her. _The_ Bianca."

"There's _a_ Bianca? In the _flesh_?" asked Dorian.

"Yesssssss," Ellana exhaled as she curled up and rested her head in Dorian's lap. "And she is the _worst_. Rude. Evasive. _Rude_."

Dorian brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "That _is_ serious."

They were silent for a few moments, until their reverie was interrupted by a hearty laugh from Dorian. "Don't you _see_ , my love? Of _course_ Varric's great love is completely _awful_!"

Ellana opened one eye to peer up at him. "How do you figure?"

Dorian grasped Ellana's shoulders and helped her into a seated position. "Varric _loves_ to suffer. I'm not sure if he'd be happy if he found himself with someone who _doesn't_ make him miserable."

"What about Cassandra?" Ellana asked.

The Tevinter tilted his head thoughtfully.

~~~

“Cassandra…” the Seeker’s name spilled from Varric’s lips with a reverence most reserved for the Chant. He looked up at her rapturous expression, her jealousy and suspicions slaked, at least for the moment, as she rode him to oblivion. He had been as honest with her as was necessary, but no more so than that. The Bianca Situation was a _complicated_ one after all, but despite Cassandra's outward show of satisfaction, guilt slithered in his belly, weaving in and out with the coil of euphoria that was aching to burst forth.

_How did we get here_? It seemed like just moments ago, the Seeker was ready to throw a vase at his head and yet the next thing Varric knew, her lips were crashing into his, and they were tumbling into his bed. He remembered uttering all the sweetest felicitations in his vocabulary between kisses and gasps before everything became a blur of the sights, smells and tastes of the breathtaking woman in his arms.

Cassandra whispered huskily, "Join me in Heaven," then careened forward suddenly and clutched the flesh at the base of Varric's neck in her teeth, which was just what he needed to fly over the edge. "You're mine," she moaned in an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability and possessiveness entwined, and Varric in his pulsating ecstatic haze was surprised to find how little he was bothered about it. When they looked into each other's eyes, Leliana's words echoed in his mind:

_“You’re doing fine. She doesn’t know what she’s missing,” she added, biting her lip and closing her eyes as she gripped the headboard._  
“Who?” Varric sighed.  
“The one you’re letting stand in the way of your happiness,” Leliana replied. She pressed her fingers to Varric’s lips. “Now hush and let’s enjoy this.” 

_Had the Nightingale been right after all? Was Bianca standing in the way of his happiness?_ Varric reached up and caressed Cassandra's glowing skin. She leaned into his touch and his breath caught as she kissed his fingertips tenderly. _Andraste's flaming ass, she is radiant _. He slid his hand behind her head, tangled his fingers in her hair and drew those supple lips to his own.__

___Is this happiness_?_ _

__Varric shivered._ _

____

~~~

Ellana was minding her own business, curled up in The Armchair of Great Temptation, reading a book Dagna had leant her about the old Dwarven Empire, when Cassandra nudged her with her knee. "Make room," she whispered. " _Please_."

When the Inquisitor shared the chair with Dorian it had been a snug but comfortable fit, but Cassandra was less...slight than the Tevinter mage, and the fit was accordingly tighter.

" _Oof_!" Ellana grunted.

"Sorry," Cassandra mumbled.

An awkward silence commenced.

"So," Ellana began, giving the Seeker an encouraging look.

"So," Cassandra concurred, then took a deep breath. " _She's_ the someone else."

The Inquisitor looked at the Seeker askance. "Did Varric _tell_ you that?"

A sardonic chuckle rumbled in Cassandra's chest. "No. It was, shall we say, a _lucky_ guess." She sighed. "They have _history_. We have...I don't even _know_ what we have."

Ellana shrugged. "Well, you're welcome to come along to figure it out. We leave for the Hinterlands tomorrow morning at dawn."

"What?" Cassandra gasped. " _Already_?"

"And you're coming with us," Ellana added with a twinkle in her eye. "Won't that be _fun_?"

"Absolutely not!" The Seeker stood to her full height and glared down at the Inquisitor with her fists balled at her hips. "It's _madness_. I'd just be..." She relaxed her hands and slumped her shoulders. "I'd just be getting in the way."

Ellana reached up and grabbed Cassandra by the wrist, pulling her back into the armchair. _All that sparring with Leliana is paying off_! "Varric may talk a cynical game, but deep down he's a softy. A pushover. And that woman Bianca is a slippery eel. I'm telling you, Cass. She was playing him like a two-bit harp." She leaned her head on the other woman's shoulder. "Varric is always looking out for everyone else, but now...especially with Hawke gone...well, he doesn't have anyone looking out for _him_."

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. "Varric is a grown man-"

Ellana guffawed. "Come, Cassandra. You and I both know there is _no_ such thing." She took the Seeker's hand. "You _told_ me you loved him. Go _get_ him! What are you waiting for?"

Cassandra squeezed Ellana's hand before sighing and getting to her feet. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

~~~

The sun was setting when Cullen began making his way towards The Herald's Rest and noticed Cassandra still hard at work. Nothing strange about Cassandra working out from dawn till dusk, but what was odd was the size of the training dummy. It was dwarf-sized. She slid to her knees and thrust the haft of her sword in its "stomach" while she struck its "head" with a gauntleted fist, grunting in triumph.

"Did you and Varric have another row?" he asked playfully.

Cassandra spun to face him with a surprised gasp and stepped in front of the training dummy as if hiding it from view would make Cullen magically forget it was there. "No! Not at all. We're-he's fine. Everything's fine. How are you?"

Cullen smiled a crooked smile and tilted his head in the direction of the Herald's Rest. " _Famished_. I was about to meet Ellana and Dorian for dinner. Would you like to come along?"

Cassandra scuffed the toe of her boot in the dirt. "I...really shouldn't."

Cullen raised an eyebrow. "Out of curiosity, just what is it that you think you'll be facing in the Hinterlands?" He gestured at the dummy the Seeker was desperately trying to hide.

Cassandra's eyes grew wide for a moment. "Enemies. Of Varric. People who want to... _hurt_ him."

The Commander shifted his weight slightly as his stomach rumbled. "Carta?"

Cassandra blinked, then nodded enthusiastically. "Probably. They're supplying Corypheus with red lyrium, at least that's what he told me," she answered.

Cullen nodded. "But that was a non-lethal attack. Is Ellana planning to take hostages for questioning?"

The Seeker shook her head vigorously. "No! This is...it's _personal_. Just in case." She looked towards the tavern with its inviting smell and warm light stretching out into the growing night like an embrace. "I think I _will_ join you for dinner after all, if you don't mind, Cullen."

Cullen chuckled warmly and put an arm around her as they turned towards the pub. "I _thought_ so."

~~~

Dorian and Ellana did their best to fill the awkward silence that had descended upon them the moment they embarked from Skyhold, even resorting to a game of "I Spy" which usually got Cassandra's goat, but she wasn't rising to the bait. Varric seemed to be deep in thought, only interacting with Tramp in an extended game of fetch as they rambled on towards their destination. The mages looked at each other and rolled their eyes with a groan. Suddenly, Dorian’s eyes widened.

“I spy...SHIT!”

Ellana sighed. “Dorian, that’s everywhere.”

Cassandra grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her in the direction Dorian was facing and at that moment readying a spell.

“Behemoth!” Ellana yelped.

“On the bright side, that must mean we’re close!” Varric grumbled, not at all sounding like anything was particularly bright or happy. He turned to Cassandra. "What no cracks about endurance? I _know_ you want to."

Cassandra was too busy to make any cracks about anything as she summoned a blinding pillar of light that completely surrounded the behemoth, then immediately followed up with a massive spell purge, which seemed to sunder the monster's Guard.

"Right." Dorian whispered, casting a Wall of Fire to buy Ellana and Varric time as they scrambled to their positions. Varric took the high ground and repeatedly fired Bianca at any cracks that appeared in the red lyrium that encased the crazed templar while Ellana worked to throw up her Mark of the Rift above it.

Wounded and angered, the behemoth struck the ground, causing huge spikes of red lyrium to shoot up from below. Cassandra leapt into Varric, knocking him out of the lyrium's path. Getting up, she cleared her throat awkwardly, then roared as she took off in the direction of the gigantic templar, Ellana at her heels, wrapped in her Fade Cloak and Spirit Blade at the ready.

The two women passed unharmed through Dorian's flames and attacked, Cassandra striking high and Ellana striking low. The Seeker only had to nod at the Inquisitor to know that the time was right to discharge the Anchor. The force of the explosion knocked them back, but they were otherwise unharmed. Hasted by Dorian, Varric's bolts flew one after the other over their heads. Dorian finished the monster off with the detonation of Walking Bomb.

After the behemoth crashed to the ground, Dorian helped Ellana to her feet. Varric attempted to do the same for Cassandra, but she slapped his hand away. He shrugged and mumbled, "Thank you for what you did back there anyway."

Cassandra strode ahead with a disgusted noise, then stopped in her tracks, pointing with her longsword at the waterfall that appeared as they crested the rise.

"Oh praise Andraste," gasped Dorian.

~~~

" _Ooh_! Royal Elfroot! I'll have to remember this place!" Ellana picked the rare plant, then reached out into the waterfall to wash her hands. " _Ahh_!"

Varric seemed nervous. "Can we...hurry it up?"

Ellana's eyes widened with surprise, but she acquiesced. Cassandra leaned over and whispered, "You _know_ how he hates the Deep Roads."

Mere moments after they stepped inside, a familiar voice rung out. " _Finally_! I started to think you weren't coming!" 

Bianca. 

Both Cassandra and Ellana reflexively cringed. Dorian didn't know any better. Yet.

Varric merely rolled his eyes. "No one said you had to hang out in the creepy cave while you waited!"

Bianca emerged from the shadows. "Well I _did_ wait, so let's make this quick." She addressed the rest of the party. "These idiots are carrying the red lyrium out in unprotected containers. We don't want to stick around long enough for it to start...talking to us."

Dorian smiled. "I don't know, talking _anything_ might be a welcome change for Lavellan and me. We had to travel with these two clams all the way here from Skyhold. Nothing but stony silence from the both of them!"

Everyone but Ellana just stared at him. "All clam, no clambake," she added with a smirk.

The staring continued. Cassandra's eye twitched.

"Tough crowd," murmured Dorian.

Varric cleared his throat. "Only _crazy_ people mine lyrium."

Bianca clarified, "The Mining Caste doesn't just sling it into a bucket! It's carried in special containers that keep it under control, and that's normal lyrium. The red stuff is _worse_! I wouldn't be surprised if most of their miners died just digging it up."

Ellana asked, "I know why Varric knows as much as he does about red lyrium, but what about you? Doesn't just sound like your knowledge is limited to his letters...or whatever."

Bianca smiled. "Varric needed a safe for his shard. _I'm_ the one who built it for him."

Ellana chuckled. "Indispensable. What are the chances that you would stumble upon a red lyrium mining operation? I mean the Deep Roads...they extend through all Thedas. How did you...luck out?"

"I've used this entrance in the past," replied Bianca. "Varric's not the _only_ surface dwarf to explore the Deep Roads, but I have to admit I was pretty surprised when I came back and found it full of humans."

Ellana clapped her hands. "Well, I'm all out of questions. Unless anyone has any objections, let's get moving!"

~~~

"Must be an old dwarven outpost," Varric intoned as they walked towards a stone bridge that stretched over a bottomless crevasse.

"What was it for?" asked Ellana.

"Trade, maybe? Your guess is as good as mine," answered Varric with a noncommittal shrug.

"Ever the font of useful information," Dorian remarked, only to be answered by a loud horn that violently shook the walls of the thaig.

Everyone turned to look at him. "Oh come on, you don't really think _I_ set off the alarm do you?"

As if to answer him, members of the Carta darted out from behind rocks and inside crevices. Now joined by Bianca, the party fought off their new foes with confidence, still finding time for banter.

"So, this is what you do now?" Bianca asked after Ellana destroyed another mage with Chain Lightning, allowing them passage to the upper floor of the thaig.

"Beg pardon?" Varric said.

Bianca gestured around them. "Skulking around in caves, shooting guys. This your day-to-day?"

"I usually try to _avoid_ the caves." answered Varric, delivering a pointed glance in Ellana's direction.

Ellana shrugged with feigned innocence. "And yet, _somehow_ you keep ending up with them! Like Dorian and dragon hunting! It's _fate_."

Dorian and Varric groaned. Cassandra made a disgusted sound. Ellana grinned cheekily, then stopped as they rounded the corner and came to a staircase going down. "Darkspawn."

Varric loaded his crossbow. "We may be too close to the surface for these to count as Deep Roads, but have I mentioned that I _hate_ the Deep Roads?"

"No kidding," retorted Ellana.

It was one after the other. First the Darkspawn, then more Carta.

At the back of the Vat Room, Ellana perused the bookcase. "Whoever they are, at least they have good taste in literature." She grinned, waving a copy of Varric's novel Darktown's Deal.

"You mean the people we just electrocuted and set on fire?" asked Dorian.

Ellana giggled a little darkly, then stifled her laugh to apologize. "Sorry I cost you some fans, Varric."

Varric snorted and waved her off. "This is the Carta. It's probably stolen anyway, so it's not like I'm missing out on any future royalties."

Upon entering the Halls of the Elders, kitty corner and up another flight of stairs from the hall they'd just been in, Bianca punched Varric in the shoulder.

"Ow!" yelped Varric.

"You had me worried, you know." Bianca explained.

"What did I do _now_?" Varric groaned, still rubbing his arm.

Bianca didn't even break stride. "That letter you sent me about the red lyrium was the first I'd heard from you since the Chantry explosion."

"Had it been _that_ long?" Varric asked, looking askance at Cassandra.

" _Seriously_. If you'd died in that mess, I'd have come back to Kirkwall and dug you up just to kick your ass," Bianca said with a peeved smirk.

"What would you have done if I'd been cremated?" Varric asked with a triumphant twinkle in his eye.

"Kick your _ashes_ , of course," Bianca replied with a giggle.

The unlocked Vault of Valammar was ultimately a disappointment. All that awaited them behind the sealed doors were Darkspawn and a mosaic tile.

"At least Gatsi will appreciate this," Ellana sighed, as she shoved the tile into her pack.

After Ellana sealed a breach to prevent further Darkspawn incursions, they forged on ahead.

"How is _whatshisname_?" asked Varric.

There was a sharpness to his tone that Bianca either failed to recognize or chose to ignore, as she answered him blithely, "Bogdan? He's in Nevarra right now, selling my machine to wealthy landowners."

"I heard some of the Guild were trying to get you named a Paragon for that contraption." Varric mused.

Bianca yelped with laughter. "That's not going to happen, even if I _am_ ten times the smith Branka ever was. A surfacer Paragon? _Never_."

Ellana shrugged and twinkled the fingers of her Anchored hand. "Stranger things have happened, Bianca. And Thedas is changing. The dwarves, too."

"Even if Bhelen has to drag them to it kicking and screaming," added Varric.

~~~

Bianca was right about one thing up front. The place was indeed host to an unusually large number of humans. It was no more than they could handle, though, so they continued onward until they found a door on the lower level of the complex.

"I _built_ these doors," Bianca bragged. "They probably shut this one from the other side when they heard the ruckus we were making."

A few minor adjustments with her tools and the stone slab slid open, with Bianca flashing a smirk to the others.

Ellana returned the gesture. "You were just _waiting_ to do that."

Bianca tilted her head. "Of _course_ I was. After you."

Inside were Carta. "Of course, Carta," Dorian snapped as he set them on fire.

"You know this is _almost_ fun, kinda like old times." said Bianca wistfully.

Varric fired off a few rounds, then looked askance at her. "I don't recall us shooting people together."

"Remember crashing Bartrand's Guild dinner? We might as well have shot him." she replied with a laugh.

"This isn't _nearly_ as dangerous as pissing off my brother." - said Varric with a shudder.

When the battle was finished, they made their way towards the back, picking through belongings and stepping over bodies in their wake.

"How long are you going to be in Orlais, do you think?" Bianca asked.

"As long as this weird shit is going on at least, maybe longer. Why?" said Varric.

"You'll have to stop by before Bogdan gets back. You should see my new workshop!" Bianca practically squealed.

_She seems oddly enthusiastic for someone who was trying to stealthily cheat on her husband_ , thought Ellana.

"I'll see what I can do. You know your family will _kill_ me if I stop by, right?" Varric admonished.

"They're not going to _kill_ you!" Bianca objected, narrowing her eyes with a peeved expression.

Varric chuckled. "You _always_ say that, and they _always_ send assassins."

Ellana stumbled upon a key in that last locked room and handed it to Bianca.

" _There_ you are!" she mumbled, before locking the final door that led to the Deep Roads. "Won't be able to use _this_ entrance again."

Varric's expression hardened, and he shook his head. " _Bianca_..."

Ellana turned to him, concerned by the sudden coldness of his voice. "You want to say something, Varric?"

"Andraste's ass, Bianca! _You're_ the leak?" Varric growled.

Bianca turned to explain. "When I got the location, I went and had a look for myself." Her eyes lit up for a moment. "And I found the red lyrium and I... _studied_ it," she added, turning sheepish.

"You _know_ what it does to people!" Varric snapped.

"I was doing you a _favor_!." Bianca retorted. "You want to know how this stuff works just as much as I do! I just...wanted to figure it out."

"Well, that was _stupid_!" Ellana blurted out.

Bianca ignored her and continued to plead her case to Varric. "It has the _Blight_ , Varric! Do you know what that _means_?"

"What?" Varric spat. "That two deadly things combine to form something super-awful?"

Bianca's eyes widened as she took his hand in her own. "Lyrium...it's _alive_ , or something like it. The Blight doesn't infect minerals, only animals. I couldn't get any further on my own, so I looked for a Grey Warden mage. Blight and magical expertise in one, right? And I found this guy, Larius. He seemed really interested in helping my research...so...I gave him a key..."

" _Larius_?" Varric repeated with a shake of his head. "He was the Grey Warden we met in Corypheus's...oh, _shit_." He looked at the ground. "I _knew_ something seemed off."

"I didn't realize until you said you found red lyrium at Haven," said Bianca. "I came here and...well...then I went to you."

Ellana snapped, "You brought us here to fix your mistake!"

"I know I screwed up, but we _did_ fix it!" Bianca pleaded, "It's as right as I can make it!"

"People. Are Dead, Bianca!" shouted Cassandra. Her voice echoed so loudly against the stone walls that Ellana swore she could feel her bones rattle. It was doubly shocking because Cassandra hadn't uttered a word out loud since they'd left Skyhold. “And...and _worse_! Don’t you realize what you’ve done?”

Ellana couldn’t help but think of Cassandra’s apprentice, Daniel, and how he and the other Seekers had been force-fed red lyrium. How Cassandra was forced to put him out of his misery. She took her friend’s shaking hand and squeezed it as best as she could while the Seeker still wore her gauntlets.

"This isn't one of your machines!" exclaimed Varric. "You can't just replace a part and make everything right!"

"No, but I can _try_ , can't I?" Bianca raised an eyebrow. "Or am I supposed to wallow in my mistakes forever, kicking myself, telling stories of what I _should_ have done?"

" _Ooh_ ," Dorian mumbled under his breath.

"Ha!" Varric laughed bitterly. "As if I would tell stories about my _own_ mistakes!"

"Varric is right," rejoined Ellana. "You can't just slap a bandage on this and call it a day. Like Cassandra said...people are _dead_."

Varric rolled his shoulders and sighed. "We've done all we can here. Bianca, you'd better get home before... _someone_...misses you."

"Varric-" Bianca stammered.

"Just _go_ ," Varric grunted, looking away.

Bianca turned to leave, then turned to face Ellana. "Get him killed," she growled, "and I will feed you your own eyeballs, Inquisitor."

The dwarven woman began to make her exit, when Cassandra tore off her gauntlets and threw them violently on the ground. "What. Did. You. Say?"

"Uh-oh," said Dorian, who subtly braced himself behind a large stone pillar.

Bianca blinked. "I _said_ -"

But Cassandra didn't let her finish. With lightning speed, she charged towards Bianca and slid to her knees as she reached for a flask in her belt, then tossed the contents in Bianca's face.

At first Bianca was startled, then grinned triumphantly and wiped her face. "If you were looking to do damage, you picked the _wrong_ flask, bi-"

Then Cassandra punched her in the face.

"Oh _shit_!" Ellana yelped. Dorian giggled uncontrollably. Even Varric stifled a grin.

Bianca looked up at Cassandra in shock and instinctively brought her hand to her face.

Cassandra lowered her voice. "How _dare_ you! How dare you presume to talk to her that way when this-" Cassandra gestured around them, " _all_ of this, is _your_ fault? Inquisitor Lavellan has been the one keeping your _boyfriend_ alive. The only one putting him in danger, time and time again, is _you_. Now. Apologize, or I'll hit you again with either this," she held up her fist, "or this." Then she held up another flask, a tonic of Tears of the Dead. "Your choice."

Bianca hesitated, bit her lip, then lowered her eyes. "I apologize, Inquisitor." She wriggled out of Cassandra's grip and walked a safe distance away before turning to face them. "I didn't really apologize to you, Varric. I just...made excuses." She laughed nervously. "Like I _always_ do. For what it's worth...I am sorry...for _everything_."

Varric lowered his eyes and swallowed hard. "I know you are." He looked into her eyes. " _Goodbye_ , Bianca."

Bianca audibly gasped and her eyes grew wide as they filled with tears they struggled to keep from escaping. She took a ragged breath and pulled her hood lower over her face. "Goodbye, Varric."

No one said anything, no one even took another breath until she left the room. When she was out of sight, Varric hit his knees and hung his head.

Cassandra fidgeted a little, then slowly approached him. When she was standing in front of him he took her hands and pulled her down so she could be eye level with him. As if by instinct, Cassandra embraced Varric and his shoulders began to shake.

The Seeker looked up and over Varric's shoulder, making eye contact with Ellana and Dorian in turn. The mages approached gently and knelt to embrace Varric at each side. Varric reached up and gripped each of their wrists tightly as if he was afraid they would disappear. Finally he cleared his throat and whispered. "My brother...he's never gonna be the same. Then Hawke...now _her_." He looked at each of them in turn. "I could feel sorry for myself and say that now I've got nobody, but...that would be a _lie_ , wouldn't it?"

Cassandra lowered her head. "Varric I'm sorry. I went _too_ far, I-"

Varric tilted her chin up and caressed her cheek. "You did just _fine_ , Pumpkin. You did what no one else could." He gestured for everyone to get to their feet and took a deep breath, his eyes brightening. "You helped me end it. _Forever_."

He walked ahead, head held high, back straight. Dorian followed right after. When the men were out of earshot, Cassandra turned to Ellana and whispered through happy tears, "Thank the Maker."


	13. Titanic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana and company make a huge discovery. The only problem is, they couldn't explain it if they tried.

When Ellana and her companions were a safe distance away from the exit, far from the keen ears of Bhelen's surface spies, Dorian murmured, "I think we can all agree that we are never to speak of this again."

Ellana just barely kept stride with her fellow mage, even with his arm behind her waist, their boots leaving a trail in the wet sand. "Josephine will want an explanation," she replied breathlessly. "What are we supposed to tell her?"

"To start with, that we are NOT the Grey Wardens," grumbled Cassandra, taking the lead up the hill that crested with the Storm's Solitude Camp. "The next time Bhelen has another darkspawn incident, we should just pass it on to them."

Ellana shook her head adamantly. "I don't trust them. Not even with Stroud in charge. You saw what they were going to do with a demon army last time."

"And that was just with a little nudge from a cut-rate charlatan," agreed Dorian. "Imagine what they'd do with-"

Varric, who'd been uncharacteristically silent up to this point, cleared his throat. "I thought you said we weren't going to talk about this."

"And we're not going to," said Ellana decisively. "Not anymore. At least not until we get back to Skyhold."

"Oh, _goody_ ," grunted Cassandra.

~~~

"Earthquakes," repeated Cullen thoughtfully, as he skimmed his fingertips over the war table.

"Pure lyrium," added Dorian.

Ellana nodded, "And lost dwarves."

"Oh my!" exclaimed Josephine, as she re-folded the report and handed it to Leliana.

"Can you verify it's existence?" asked Cullen. "Draw a map or a diagram? _Anything_?"

"Not...exactly, no." Ellana sat down and Cullen rubbed her tense shoulders. "It's... _complicated_ ," she mumbled finally.

Dorian ran his fingers through his hair. "We were...inside it. So, the size, the scope, the shape...we wouldn't be able to describe it accurately. I don't even believe we fully explored it."

"It was _green_ ," added Cassandra. "Verdant. But there is _no_ sunlight there, it doesn't make any sense!"

"Chuckles is going to be _so_ pissed," Varric said with a sardonic twinkle in his eye. "He would give his two pointy ears to go down there if he knew what we know."

"And the only one who might be able to adequately explain anything doesn't want to leave?" Cullen asked, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

Varric's eyes went a little unfocused as he recalled the events with no small amount of disbelief. "She did things...no other dwarf has been able to do, _ever_...in our history. Except _maybe_ for that Enchantment kid, although nobody actually _saw_ him do it, so..." He stared out the window. "I wish Hawke were here. She always makes weird shit less... _weird_." Then he caught Ellana's guilty look. "I'm not blaming you. It was her choice. But that doesn't make any of this," he pounded his chest with a clenched fist, "go _away_."

Ellana reached out and rested her hand on Varric's, leaving it there. Dorian silently put a hand on one of the dwarf's shoulders while Cassandra took the opposite. Varric cleared his throat before continuing. "It was _alive_ , Curly. Like the red stuff but... _pure_. There was a pulse, like a heartbeat. But what I don't get is, how come we didn't know? The elves...they have their gods. The humans, the Black City and the Maker. We have our 'Paragons' and a whole caste of people dedicated to recording our history. Why we don't know more about this?"

"It appears that Valta was the only person interested in finding an answer to your question," replied Dorian, "And she was exiled for her trouble."

Leliana spoke up. "I did...come into the possession of some writings of hers. They found their way here this morning, I'm still trying to...trace the means." She handed a small sheaf to Ellana. "Does any of this square with what you saw?"

_I don't remember most of what happened at the end. Inquisitor Lavellan fought to stop the earthquakes, and we raced together through a place more beautiful than anything I had ever seen. How it could be the source of all that devastation confused me. It still does. I felt Renn's absence with every step as we ran to the great circle. Immense lyrium veins pulsed with life, and their power flowed into the circle. Something grew from it. A towering being born from the Stone rose to stop us. The Guardian. It lashed out, and I fell into a warm light's embrace. I thought I was returning to the Stone. Perhaps I did.The light receded as I awoke in paradise. The Guardian lay shattered; the Inquisitor stood triumphant. A victory, but I could not take any joy in it. The Guardian had come to defend the Titan—protect the Stone from being weakened. It tried to kill the Inquisitor, but to me, it offered only gifts.I hope to use them well—and someday understand why I was chosen to receive them._

"How in Mythal's name did this _get_ here?" asked Ellana incredulously as she folded the note with trembling hands. "We only _just_ arrived!" She strode urgently around the War Table and gripped Leliana's arm with a startling intensity. "You _must_ find the source!"

Cullen gently grasped Ellana about her shoulders and though she shuddered into his embrace, her resolve remained firm. " _Promise_ me, Leliana."

Leliana nodded. "Of course. _However_..." She handed over two more slips of paper, biting her lip. "The handwriting matches."

Varric shook his head. "All right, at this point, even _Hawke_ couldn't make this less shit less weird. I'm getting a drink."

"I'll join you," replied Cassandra, to no one's surprise. Still, she looked to the Inquisitor for approval and waited until Ellana had nodded her assent before she finally departed.

The Inquisitor read the second note, so softly that she was barely audible.

_“The Titans are real. I knew it the moment I unearthed that ancient text. Renn scoffed at the words I read. I couldn't blame him, even as I felt the truth settle on me like a warm cloak. Much of our history has been lost, and the Wall of Memories goes back only so far. There had to be more to the story of our people, and I've finally found one of those lost chapters. It's impossible to describe in words how truly vast a Titan is. The one I met is so large you can only glimpse parts of it. I had wandered inside its body for who knows how long without even realizing it. I've heard tales of dragons and giants on the surface, but descriptions of their size do not compare to the Titan's. Its blood now flows through me, and its song fills the gaps in our history. I close my eyes and see glimpses of the world that was, before everything changed and the dwarven race broke in two. Something caused the Titans to fall, and the fate of my people fell with them. The Titan wants me to know. No, more than that. It wants me to understand. There is a loneliness to its song.”_

Ellana sunk to her knees on the floor, eyes widening. Growing pale, she handed the letter to Dorian in silence, then read the final correspondence.

_“Renn's murderers hide in the shadows, watching me from a safe distance. The Sha-Brytol saw the Titan favor me with the gift of shaping stone. I am more powerful than they will ever be. They fear me. They love me. They understand I am a part of the Titan they defend, but they don't realize it doesn't need their protection. It never has. Whoever these dwarves once were, whatever motives drove them to remain here, now they are only lost. I don't sleep anymore, but sometimes I stop to listen. Yesterday—or was it an hour ago?—I became aware of a Sha-Brytol who had crept close enough to leave an offering: an empty suit of their armor. did they think I would wear it? Lead them? All their gift did was summon the image of my dead friend as I returned him to the Stone. I left the armor where it lay. Tomorrow—no, it was just a moment ago—I enter one of their towers. I sense how rapidly they flee my approach. They think I come to destroy them, but I don't have to get close to do that. I'm just curious to see how they live. Do they live? The tower offers no answers. It is quiet and spare, reminding me of descriptions of the topsiders' temples to their gods. Are the towers temples? Fortresses? Both, perhaps. Only one chamber provided anything of interest to me. A domed, circular courtyard held a pool of the Titan's blood at its center. Empty suits of armor sat neatly in a circle around the pool. Is this where Sha-Brytol come to be entombed in their metal skins? What smith makes this armor, and where does it come from? My lost kin are hiding something. They have a thaig somewhere. I have no interest in finding that citadel of the Sha-Brytol, but another might.”_

Ellana handed over the last of the letters into Dorian's waiting hand. Then she rolled on to her back and stared blankly at the ceiling. Cullen knelt by her side. "Darling," he whispered tenderly. "You need your rest. Let me carry you to bed."

The Inquisitor shook her head.

"Not yet. I want to speak to Dorian." She looked around the room emphatically. " _Alone_." The others turned to leave. "Josephine."

The Ambassador returned to Ellana and crouched by her side. The Inquisitor looked up at her. "We should _do_ something. Try to find her. I don't know, my head is spinning."

Dorian sat on the floor, leaned against the wall and gently pulled Ellana into his lap as if she were a small child. "Valta hit her _hard_ ," he explained to Josephine.

The Ambassador looked perplexed. "Does Cullen know?"

Dorian shook his head. "She didn't want him to worry. We were scared at first she would-" he mouthed the rest of his sentence, " _lose the baby_."

Josephine nodded, then stood. "The situation may be best handled by Orzammar itself. Let us ask the king to send forces from the Legion of the Dead to search for Shaper Valta."

"Sounds good," Ellana whispered exhaustedly.

After Josephine closed the door behind her, Ellana burst into tears, and buried her face into Dorian's cloak. He stroked her hair until she finally stilled.

"Never," she whispered, "in my wildest dreams or nightmares could I have _ever_ known that our world was as deep and wide as this." She looked up into Dorian's eyes. "There's still _so_ much that I don't know. How can I go on being the Inquisitor, trying to help people, if I don't _really_ know what I'm doing?"

"Follow your heart, my love," answered Dorian, "it hasn't steered you wrong yet. Also-" he reached into his cloak and pulled out a handkerchief. "You're dripping."

Ellana flushed and hurriedly attended to her nose. Dorian continued. "If you are concerned that my advice in this matter is a bit pat, then let me go a step further and elaborate now that you aren't so emotionally vulnerable." He took a deep breath. "Most humans, and likely dwarves if I am to be quite honest, would be surprised that you, as a Dalish elf, could even read the Common Tongue, much less comprehend all the inner workings and mysteries of the universe. However, that is _not_ to say that you shouldn't _try_. You and I are going to spend four hours in the library every day we are in Skyhold studying the histories and the mysteries of our world. When we are on the road, bring one book. Journal everything you see and learn. And remember this, my love: even the Dwarves could not have foreseen what happened down there. _No one_ could have. It's _not_ your fault."

Ellana nodded, deep in thought, then asked, "Valta said that we were inside it's body."

"Yes, that is true," answered Dorian.

The Inquisitor's eyebrows came together in a little frown. "If that's the case, then...how did we get inside? Last I checked, the only way one could enter a body, any body, is through an orifice of some kind."

Dorian looked at Ellana, his face drained of color.

Ellana looked at Dorian and giggled. Dorian shuddered.

~~~

_“A search of the Titan caverns all the way to Shaper Valta's last known location turned up nothing but a few small groups of Sha-Brytol, who were quickly dispatched. Valta seems to have disappeared deeper inside the Titan, but she was not the only one who has vanished. The gravesite of Lieutenant Renn was recently disturbed, and his remains are missing. It is not known who took his body or why. There have been no more cries from the Titan caverns. Inquisition scouts reported one final discovery: The tunnel to the Wellspring no longer exists. Attempts to delve into the blank rock face result only in broken tools and little trace on the stone itself. Somewhat nervously––––but emphatically––––the engineers recommend leaving it be.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Part four of a Four Part series. And this nutritious breakfast.


End file.
